The Space Between
by theBuzzKill
Summary: In an alternate reality in which there is not just one Shepard but two, CDR Lillian Shepard struggles after her older brother ADM Greg Shepard defeats the Reapers and sends the Normandy plummeting to the surface of an unfamiliar planet. Set post-ME3 after synthesis, with references to all three games. Rated M for language and eventual adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**_0915 LCDR Williams:_** Are you coming?

The Commander squeezed her eyes shut tightly as the ping of her omni-tool sounded, alerting her to a new message. She could already guess who it was from. With a huff of defiance, she turned onto her back and yanked the sheets up to her chin, refusing to verify the sender's identity.

**_0918 LCDR Williams:_** Please, Lil. I need you to be there.

At the sound of yet another ping, Shepard released a breath she hadn't known she was holding and reluctantly opened her eyes. Her makeshift cabin in Starboard Observation was dark, thanks to the closed shutters lining the wall, though she knew it must be light outside. She lifted her arm up in front of her face and opened her messages, the glowing orange omni-tool illuminating her face and causing her to squint at the sudden brightness.

The Normandy had been planet side for two days after crash-landing during the final push against the Reapers. It had been two days since the Crucible exploded with Greg inside of it, and two days since any member of the crew had seen the Commander outside of her quarters.

She hadn't felt the need to leave. This wasn't her ship, her crew, or her responsibility… It was before, once, when it had been a Cerberus ship, and saving humanity had been _her _task. Before the Reapers attacked, before she turned herself in to the Alliance, before the wind was taken out of her sails. Now it was Greg's ship, and Greg's crew, and she'd be damned if she was going to step forward and inherit his mess.

The Omega-4 relay had left her a shell of the woman she'd been before, and she was grateful for the solitude being placed under house arrest demanded. It was during this time that her superiors decided she was no longer mentally fit for active combat. But she was still smart as a whip and a damn good engineer, so when the Reapers swarmed the galaxy like a horde of ants at a picnic, _she _was commissioned to assist in constructing the Crucible. And the fate of life as everyone knew it was placed back in Greg's overly-capable hands.

He raced from planet to planet uniting the various species and resolving their idiotic disputes, like the Universe's own knight in shining armor. He was a beacon of hope not only for the humans, but for all races. And just like that, Lillian was back to being the younger, less impressive sibling. Who could even care about her annihilation of the Collectors when Greg was single-handedly recruiting the galaxy's largest army to annihilate the Reapers? She understood it, but it still had her grinding her teeth whenever she thought about it.

After the Normandy's surprise landing, Williams didn't even wait a day to begin funeral preparations for Greg… what few preparations could be made without an actual corpse, or one-hundred percent certainty that there even was one. Shepard couldn't blame her for wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, but the incessant messages she'd been receiving were another story. The Commander wasn't known for her patience.

She stared into the blackness for a few minutes before she received another message, prompting her to sit up and swing her legs over the edge of the bed. Soreness was prevalent in most of her body, the result of being inactive for only a couple of days. Her joints all but creaked as she uncurled and stretched out. It felt like her muscles had been replaced by lead and it was all she could do to keep herself from falling back onto the mattress and burying her head under the pillows.

Surviving a war of such caliber should be a relief. Everyone had watched the Crucible erupt with a neon green beam of light. Her brother had obviously done what he'd set out to do, but whether or not it had destroyed the Reapers still remained to be seen. The relief she should be experiencing over the galaxy's supposed victory was cancelled out by a feeling of insurmountable anxiety. Part of her wished she had been the one to blow up inside of the Crucible, or better yet, the Collector base. She didn't even have the strength to get out of bed, let alone help rebuild civilization.

**_0925 LT Vega:_** Come on, Lola. You know this is important.

**_0926 LT Vega: _**Do it for Ash.

She used to do things for people, didn't she? She was a goddamn well of selflessness. Hadn't she done enough… for her brother, for the crew, for the Council, for all of mankind? Did she really have to go downstairs and pretend that she wasn't bitter or disappointed to get her goddamn omni-tool to stop beeping at her?

The frown on her face was deepening by the second as she stood up and stumbled over to her closet. She was only wearing a tank top and panties now, and she wasn't planning to improve upon it much. Pants and boots would suffice. Her short dark hair could remain uncombed, forced into a submissive bun on the top of her head with rebellious strands hanging all around her face. It was a funeral, not a beauty pageant.

She glared down at her omni-tool as she punched a reply to Williams and Vega into the holographic keypad, marching towards her cabin door with newfound, annoyance-fueled confidence.

_**0933 CDR SHEPARD:** _I'm coming.

* * *

When the door opened, she was met by numerous sets of eyes at the end of the hallway where a morose gathering of individuals were looking over the names adorning the memorial wall opposite the elevator. A few of her comrades silently nodded in greeting, and more than a few crewmen saluted her as she approached the crowd, nearly making her laugh. She sure as hell didn't feel like a Commander.

"Shep… ah… Lill…" Ashley muttered, choking on Shepard's last name and looking down. Everyone knew the reason for the outspoken Lieutenant Commander's sudden inability to speak, and James reached out and clapped a comforting hand on her shoulder. She collapsed against him, her sturdy frame buckling under the weight of the loss she was feeling. She looked fragile and small. Emotional and physical exhaustion was evident on her face.

Ashley Williams was Greg's only reckless decision. The Alliance was clear in its rules against fraternization and he had put a lot at risk by pursuing her on the old SR-1. He'd taken a liking to her instantly. What first began as a mutual respect for each other's abilities turned into an honest friendship that he'd eventually become hell-bent on turning into something more. Perhaps the right military officials never found out about their relationship, or perhaps Greg's reputation made them untouchable… Whatever it was, they'd managed to stay together for three years. Before the Reaper attack, Greg had frequently talked about wanting to marry her – when the time was right. Unfortunately his time had run out.

Just as Shep opened her mouth to say something semi-comforting, she was cut off by a familiar voice across the room.

"Here, Shepard…" Tali wove through the bodies to get to her former Commander, clutching something in her gloved fingers. Something long, rectangular, and flat. Shep knew what it was before it was offered to her and she didn't want to accept it. _No, no, no._ Anyone else on the ship would be better suited for this. She didn't think she should even be at the memorial, let alone orchestrating it!

Sensing the Commander's hesitation, Tali sighed. "You have to do this. He was your brother," she reminded quietly. When Shepard still refused to take the plate, Tali reached out with one of her hands and took hold of one of Shepard's, forcefully opening it. She quickly placed the item in her hand and curled her fingers around it before taking a step back to ensure that she couldn't try to give it back. Hopefully she wouldn't throw it, or attempt to break it, or injure anyone with it… Tali was wringing her hands imagining all of the possibilities.

The Quarian was soon relieved, and a little bit surprised, to see that instead of trying to get rid of it, Shepard merely looked down at the name plate in her hand.

**_Admiral Greg Shepard_**

A hard knot swelled in her throat as she ran her fingers over the lettering. Part of her wanted to laugh, and part of her wanted to cry. She had never been close with her brother, and a tiny piece of her would always feel sad about that. It wasn't possible for them to be friends in this life. Maybe in an alternate universe where they were both normal children, in a normal family, without growing up under the scrutiny of military parents, constantly competing to be the better child, the favorite… Maybe they could have been friends in a life like that, but not this one.

She had lived her entire life in his shadow. She was good, but he was better. At everything. He'd received better grades, he'd been more popular among their peers, and after enlisting in the military, he'd excelled there too.

Yet here she was, alive... She was alive, and he was almost certainly dead. She couldn't fend off the sick sense of victory that washed over her as she considered that. She was no longer second best. She was the only Shepard left. She wasn't thinking about the fact that he died saving her, saving everyone. Every breath that entered her lungs was another notch in his belt of good deeds. He sacrificed himself to save the universe, because he was better. But that was irrelevant to her right now.

She blinked down at his name for a moment longer before looking up to find that all eyes were on her. Feeling awkward and unprepared, she squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. "Does anyone want to say anything?"

A strange noise escaped Ashley then, a sob maybe, Shepard couldn't tell. Everyone looked so expectant, waiting for her to say what they were all thinking, but she didn't know what they were thinking and she had nothing to say. After an uncomfortable silence passed, Liara took a step forward and spoke softly.

"Perhaps you should be the one to give the eulogy, Shepard. The only individual who knew him as well as you do is…" Liara's blue eyes swelled with sympathy as she glanced towards Ashley. "… Indisposed," she finished carefully, folding her hands behind her back.

Lillian nodded and cleared her throat, now certain that there was no way to get out of this. "Uh… Well… He was my brother…" she began, wincing at her own words. They sounded as hollow and contrived as they felt. "But he was more than that. He was a hero, too," she murmured, vision blurring as her eyes went out of focus. "He was a loyal partner," she continued, blinking and looking towards Ash. She swallowed hard, struggling to think of more to say. "He took a lot of pride in what he did, and he died doing it. We owe him our lives… and much more."

She sighed as she slowly approached the wall and reached up to place Greg's plate smack in the center, underneath one she hadn't seen yet: Anderson's.

"He'll be missed" she whispered, the words leaving a sour taste in her mouth that she knew shouldn't be there. "But he won't ever be forgotten."

Shepard didn't move away from the wall when she was finished speaking. She continued to scan over the names of her late companions, watching each of their deaths replay behind her eyes, the memories all too vivid.

Maybe out of respect for her, or Ashley, or Greg himself, everyone else remained quiet and that uncomfortable silence returned. Ashley could be heard crying against James, but there was no other sound as each crew member paid their wordless respects to the deceased before walking off to get on with their day. Shepard was thankful for Ashley's eventual departure, and vaguely aware of everyone else's. But when the hallway had cleared out, she could still feel a presence lingering behind her, one set of eyes still glued to the back of her head.

"You don't appear to be very upset about your brother's passing."

His voice was like melted butter on asphalt, and Lillian could practically feel his subharmonics rumble through her, even from across the room. She tore her eyes away from the wall of names and frowned down at the floor, unaware of her fists balling at her sides. "I'm not."

The distinct clinks of armor rustling could be heard behind her as he pushed away from the wall and unfolded his arms. "Do you think he's still alive?"

"No," she snapped, feeling her earlier irritation return full-force.

His demeanor was always so calm, and there was an air of confidence about him that Shepard had only ever recognized in one other person: Greg. Every conversation Shepard had ever had with the Turian had left her feeling inferior and ignorant. And his witty remarks drove her up the wall.

"If you're certain he's gone, why aren't you grieving?"

That question had her spinning around on her heels as the pressure that had been building in her throat became too much for her to keep contained. Her hazel eyes were narrowed into slits and her lips were set in a deep, unintentional scowl. "What do you want me to say, Garrus? That I'm racked with sorrow?"

Though she had raised her voice, his remained soft when he answered… and it was enraging to her. "Not at all." He shook his head and moved closer to her, well aware of the white knuckles at her sides. "It just seems odd to me – pretending to mourn someone you don't care for."

"Chock it up to familial obligation. Humans do shit like that, don't ask me why." He was getting closer and closer to her, his tall angular form looming over her significantly smaller 5'7" frame.

"Does your attendance today mean that you're ready to come out of hiding?" he asked, staring down at her. To avoid making contact with his piercing blue eyes, she chose to keep her gaze focused on his mandibles and the way they would occasionally flare while he spoke. The question was asked out of curiosity, but met with defensiveness, as per usual.

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. What does it matter?"

The Turian shrugged a shoulder up and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm wondering if you're going to take control of the ship and assume responsibility for the crew."

There it was. That condescending attitude that she couldn't stand. Due to limited experience working with Turians, she had a hard time discerning between normal conversation and lecturing. It all sounded the same to her, and set a fire in her belly.

"We might be stuck on this planet for some time, while the ship is being repaired. We'll need to scout out the surrounding area, set up a perimeter. Sort out food rations, assign someone to –" He was interrupted by a tightly-balled fist swinging at his face.

Luckily he was anticipating it, and he managed to duck out of the way and take hold of her wrist before her knuckles made contact with his jaw. She was momentarily baffled by the fact that he'd managed to evade her shot before she reared her left fist back and launched it at his side in retaliation. He managed to stop that one as well by catching her fist in his hand and holding it firmly. They stood like that for a long time, Shepard looking like she was going to explode while he held one of her hands in the air and the other between them.

Rage bubbled up inside of her like a volcano about to erupt, and she began thrashing in his hold, a guttural snarl resonating from her throat. "You've got a lot of fucking nerve, Garrus! Who the hell do you think you are?!" She began shrieking at him mercilessly while his mandibles drew against the sides of his face tightly. He allowed himself to be a soundboard for her verbal abuse while she continued to rant, watching her eyes bulge and an aggravated flush spread beneath her pale skin. He could feel her pulse in her wrist, fast and erratic.

After her voice eventually began to crack and weaken, he let out a soft sigh and pulled her hands to his chest. The gesture shut her up long enough for him to lean down and press his forehead to hers in an attempt to calm her down, and much to his surprise, it worked. Not another sound escaped her, and she stood there panting, staring at him incredulously.

When he thought she might not pulverize him, he released his hold on her wrists and brought his hands up to cup either side of her face. For a moment, he could swear he felt her relax at his touch, and her pulse even out.

But the calm didn't last long. As soon as his thumbs began caressing her cheeks, she went positively berserk. She shoved him away with all of the force in her body and delivered a series of furious jabs to his midsection before storming off in the direction of her quarters. Her space. Her solitude. Away from idiotic, know-it-all, touchy-feely fucking Turians.

She was glaring at him while she waited for the door to open, and continued to do so after it opened and she slipped inside. He was doubled over against the wall, staring at her as the Starboard Observation door slid shut and she disappeared behind it. The lock promptly turned red and it was then that his mandibles flared with a small smile. He slowly straightened up and turned in the direction of the Main Battery to begin working on the ship's reparations.

* * *

Shepard could have screamed when she was finally back in the safety of her cabin, but she simply locked the door, set her omni-tool to privacy mode, and threw herself down on the bed instead.

Her head was reeling, trying to make sense of what just happened in the hallway. As if being confronted wasn't irritating enough, he'd felt the need to _grab _her as well. He wasn't even fazed by her screaming in his face, he just stared down at her with all of the patience she lacked and then some. And then… the face touching… and…

She shut her eyes and groaned, mashing the balls of her hands into her eye sockets.

What an asshole. What an absolute asshole. Screwing with her after her brother's memorial, telling her to get her act together for the sake of everyone else.

_Why don't you, Garrus? Why don't you assume responsibility, you jerk? You've clearly got all of the answers._

She thrashed onto her side and hugged a pillow close to her chest. She didn't want to be in charge of anyone but herself, and she could barely manage that anymore. It was selfish and immature, but she was only twenty-seven years old. Visions from earlier began to slowly invade her mind again and she cringed, shaking her head as if the action would propel the memories out of her head via her ears.

How many had died under her command? How many had she failed? How many would still be around today if Greg had been their leader instead of her? There was a reason she was assigned to the Crucible. She wasn't fit to be a leader anymore… Maybe she never had been. Too many had lost their lives because of her… She could still see their faces; still feel them slipping away…

Garrus had been there with her, as a Spectre and as a Cerberus operative. He'd watched their squadmates die from right beside her. He'd watched her slowly come apart at the seams. And then he had the nerve to suggest that she take control again…

She was no more fit to command the Normandy than a rabid varren.

She fought against tightness in her chest that implied she needed to cry and proceeded to inhale and exhale slowly until she felt mellow enough to drift in and out of consciousness. She finally fell asleep thinking about that leathery grey forehead pressed against hers.

* * *

**A/N -**

Alriiiiight! First of all, hello! If you've read down to this point, then thank you! I've never attempted to write fanfic before, but this idea recently popped into my head and I just had to give it a go. I know there are things that could be improved in this chapter, but I was eager to put it out there and see what people think. I love getting feedback, especially constructive criticism. If you've got any requests or suggestions for this story, I'd love to hear them!_ Especially_ since this is my first fanfiction. :P

**Again, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy my weird little Mass Effect mess. ^_^**


	2. Chapter 2

"_You're it!" A ten-year-old brunet slapped a hand on his little sister's back and took off running in the opposite direction, victorious laughter rumbling in his chest, competing for the air in his lungs as he propelled himself forward._

_She spun around to catch him before he was out of her reach but her arms were short and her brother was fast. Really fast. With a determined frown plastered on her freckled face, she sprinted after him as fast as her little legs would carry her._

_The four year age difference between the two gave Gregory an obvious advantage over his uncoordinated, six-year-old sister. By the time she could target his movements and get her limbs moving in his direction, he would change direction three more times. _

_They ran from one end of the small, fenced-in yard to another countless times, squealing and giggling whenever Lillian would get closer to him. Every time Gregory was within her reach, he'd sprint forward at a seemingly impossible speed. But she pushed forward, determined to keep up and catch him._

_When she had him cornered, he grew desperate and moved their outside game inside by bounding up the porch steps and skidding into the living room. Lillian was delighted by the new challenge and scrambled after him. _

_She had an easier time catching up once they were inside and leapt forward off of the floor in the hopes of tackling him. She would have succeeded had he not swerved into the hallway, banging into the nearby end table as he did so._

_Lillian landed on the carpeted floor with a loud thud and was stunned silent before the lamp on the rattled end table came crashing down next to her, shattering instantly. She was too frightened to scream and Gregory was wide-eyed in the hallway, praying that their mom hadn't heard the racket from inside of her office. _

_His hopes were dashed within seconds when footsteps could be heard marching down the hallway towards them. Their mother appeared next to him, clad in her civvies and an exasperated expression. She saw Greg standing in the hallway and Lil lying on the floor next to a broken lamp. To her, the culprit was obvious._

"_Lillian Marie Shepard!" Her tone was firm and cold, and the little girl's eyes began to well up before her middle name even made it out of the woman's mouth. Full names were only used in the most severe situations. Tears were streaming down her cheeks by the time her mom stepped around the mess and reached down to yank her upright by the arm._

"_You are in so much trouble, young lady! What have we told you about running in the house? If you want to run around, you go outside," her mother hissed, continuing to lecture as she dragged her unwilling victim to her bedroom._

_Lillian wasn't focusing on her mother's words as she watched her brother become smaller where he stood. He didn't look happy, but he didn't look upset either, and his silence let her know that he wasn't going to stick up for her. She'd learned early on that pointing fingers would get her nowhere, but her blue-green eyes were pleading, waiting for him to do the right thing. He simply looked down at the carpet and shuffled his feet._

* * *

Shepard awoke feeling disoriented, fully clothed and hugging a pillow just the way she'd fallen asleep. Her mind was foggy with visuals of pink frill, stuffed animals, princess bed sheets… It took her more than a few seconds to remember her location, and age. Her mother's voice was still ringing in her ears as she brought her open hands up in front of her face and turned them over again and again until she was satisfied with their size, their weight, and their scars. She was no longer Lillian Marie Shepard, she was Commander Lillian Shepard, and she was almost thirty… entirely too old to be having nightmares.

She swallowed hard and blinked the sleep out of her eyes, then looked towards the bedside clock with a grimace. 0337. Grogginess, undoubtedly the result of oversleeping, was making her feel even heavier than when she'd woken up the morning before, and she shoved herself upright with little concern for the pounding in her skull. "EDI?" Her voice came out as barely more than a whisper and she cleared her throat to try again. "EDI…"

The AI's voice chimed over the com instantly. "Yes, Shepard?"

The Commander picked up the aforementioned clock and gave it a slight shake. "Have I really been asleep for an entire day?" It was rare for her to sleep even six hours these days. Seventeen was unbelievable.

"Yes." EDI confirmed. "You have been asleep since your confrontation with Officer Vakarian yesterday morning. Seventeen hours, forty-three minutes, thirteen seconds to be exact." Shepard's face contorted unpleasantly at the reminder of her spat with Garrus, but EDI continued. "Numerous crew members have been trying to contact you, but I insisted that they let you rest."

That erased the upset look on Lillian's face and a vague smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Thanks."

"Of course. Is there anything else you need, Shepard?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Thank you, EDI."

The com went silent and Shepard set the clock back down. Her haziness was fading fast but some caffeine would definitely speed the process along. She stood up and pulled a sweatshirt on before padding out of her room and into the hallway, which was now empty. She tried to keep her footsteps muffled as she b-lined for the mess hall, wanting the deserted crew deck to stay that way.

Besides, the Battery wasn't so far from the mess that Garrus wouldn't be able to hear someone shuffling about if he was awake, and the last thing Lillian wanted was to pick up where they'd left off the day before. As she approached the small kitchen, she tried to remember if her fuse had always been so short with the Turian, or if that had come along with her resurrection. Her memory hadn't been completely intact after Project Lazarus, so it was impossible to know how she felt about him before she was spaced.

He just reminded her of her brother so damn much it made her crazy, and perhaps that wasn't fair to him. Turians seemed uptight as a rule, the product of their strict, disciplined culture no doubt. But the way he was always going on about vengeance and justice had worked its way under her skin long ago. She understood his feelings of betrayal and hurt, but did he have to be so… _brooding_?

She thought back to the previous day and remembered watching his face lean down to press against hers, and the panic that surged through her as she guessed his next move. Then she felt the warmth of his bare hands on her flesh; softer than she would have guessed, but still rough. The moment had both repulsed and excited her, and without knowing what to do with that feeling, her temper flared and she punched him. Classic Lillian – literally beating men away.

She glanced at the Battery doors while she prepared a cup of coffee and smirked. Served him right.

Shepard pulled herself up onto the counter and leaned her head back against the cabinets. The warm mug in her hand was oddly comforting. She couldn't remember the last time she'd sat down to simply savor a cup of black coffee. It felt like there hadn't been any time to enjoy anything between hunting Saren, coming back from the dead, defeating the Collectors, and being grounded by the Alliance. Since the initial Reaper attack on Earth it was as if she'd been riding a conveyor belt, completing the various, tedious tasks handed to her until she arrived back on the Normandy, for the third time. She couldn't seem to stay off of this ship.

In the beginning of her career it had been fun. Being assigned to the Normandy was a huge honor and she didn't even mind working alongside her brother. She might have been content for life to stay that way forever, but the Universe had other plans.

It wasn't long after the Shepard siblings began working aboard the Normandy that the Council extended Greg an offer to become the first human Spectre. He flat-out refused it without a second thought and made it very clear that he was, and would remain, Alliance blue through-and-through. Lillian was sent on a top-secret mission to Eden Prime soon after with CPL Jenkins and LT Alenko in tow, completely unaware that she was being tested for Spectre candidacy in his place.

Thinking about it had her glaring into her mug and biting the inside of her cheek. Hard. Her Spectre status was the single worst hand-me-down she'd ever received from her older sibling. The Council needed someone with exceptional skill to go after Saren, and she had seen the Prothean beacon's vision on Eden Prime. She would suffice, but she wasn't their first choice.

At the time she had been too absorbed in her mission to feel any anger; she felt invaluable and independent. After being given the Normandy and its entire crew, she went after Saren and the Geth with a fury she didn't even know she had, collecting tiny pieces of a giant puzzle along the way. Once she had enough to start piecing it all together, no one wanted to believe her. Saren and his army of geth were inconsequential compared to the real threat, which was much larger, and on its way. But the Council didn't want to hear about it. They stated there wasn't sufficient evidence to support her claims of an impending Reaper invasion; her word wasn't enough. The giant fucking machine that latched onto the Citadel wasn't enough.

There were a few people who believed her… mostly people who had been beside her and saw evidence of the Reapers for themselves. Garrus, Liara, Ashley, Tali, Wrex… Greg believed her too, but it didn't matter. With Saren, Sovereign, and the Geth no longer posing an immediate threat, the Council had nothing left to fuss over. Shepard was dismissed, but she chose to stay aboard the Normandy and use her Spectre status to continue investigating the Reaper threat.

That's when she found the Collectors. Or rather, the Collectors found her. They destroyed the SR-1, sent her flying into space, and she woke up on an operating table two years later, still mostly human but with some glowing upgrades holding her together. She set her coffee down in favor of touching her cheeks, imagining the scars that used to be there before Dr. Chakwas patched her up.

She was thankful to be alive at one point, but she knew there had to be an ulterior motive behind bringing her back. No one would spend that kind of money or time on a single person otherwise. And she was right. Once again, she had been chosen to fill her brother's shoes. The Illusive Man knew the heroic Greg Shepard would never associate himself with an organization like Cerberus, but humanity needed someone powerful, and preferably with knowledge of the Reapers, to fight for them. They needed the next best thing: Lillian Shepard.

To say she had hated working with Cerberus would be the understatement of the century. The Illusive Man was the sketchiest person she'd ever met, and for forking out so much dough to bring her back to life, he was certainly reckless with her. She couldn't trust that asshole as far as she could throw him, and since throwing a hologram was impossible, well...

Cerberus was also responsible for the fight that drove a permanent wedge between her and Greg. The memory of her encounter with Greg and Ashley on Horizon just one year prior still put a bad taste in her mouth. After leaving the colony, they didn't speak once until the Reaper attack, and even then all conversation was strictly business. To the best of her knowledge, he carried his anger towards her to his grave.

* * *

"_Do you have any idea what kind of organization you're working for?" Greg demanded. His blue eyes were narrowed at her and filled with contempt. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He was talking down to her like they were children again, and it immediately put her on edge._

"_I'm not working _for_ them, I'm working _with_ them! The Reapers are the enemy, Greg, not Cerberus. Not _me_." She needed him to understand. The Illusive Man was giving her resources to accomplish a mutual goal. She didn't agree with Cerberus or their methods, and she loathed the Illusive Man, but she couldn't turn down his help. Not while the Collectors were harvesting entire colonies. _

_Ashley reached up to rub her temple, shaking her head disbelievingly. "Why didn't you try to contact us? Why didn't you let us know you were alive?" She didn't appear to be as angry as her partner, but she was visibly distressed. _

"_I haven't been alive that long, I… I haven't had time!" It sounded like a pitiful excuse but it was true. Lillian barely had time to think between recruiting a new team and zipping from colony to colony tracking the Collectors. Surely they could sympathize with that…_

_Greg was practically seething. "You've turned your back on everything we stood for." His voice resembled their mother's so much in that instant, frosty and distant, that Lillian's stomach twisted painfully. But she refused to let that pain show on her face._

_Instead, she squared her shoulders and took a step back. "I can see you won't listen to reason," she muttered through gritted teeth. If all he was going to do was berate her, then she had nothing left to say to him._

_Ashley shook her head and crossed her arms. "You show up after two years and you're working with Cerberus… Sounds like you left reason behind a long time ago."_

"_It doesn't matter," Greg snapped. "I still know where my loyalties lie. I'm an Alliance soldier. It's in my blood." He holstered his pistol and turned to walk away with Ashley following closely behind. "I'm reporting back to the Citadel. I'll let them decide if they believe your story."_

_The two marched off without so much as a goodbye, and Lillian was left standing there wondering what the hell happened._

* * *

"'Ey, Lola." The Commander was pulled back into the present as Vega rounded the corner from the elevator. "You're up early," he teased.

Shepard turned to look at him and nodded weakly. "Hey." Her mug was now cool to the touch and she frowned down into it. Had she really been zoning out long enough for her coffee to go cold?

It was unlike her to be so reserved, but she hadn't been acting much like herself lately anyway. And she looked like shit, he noticed upon closer inspection. Her hair was matted down in a tangled mess, a small amount still bunched in a limp bun atop her head. Dark circles were apparent around her eyes, even after so much sleep. And she was wearing the same clothes she'd worn yesterday. He wondered when the last time she looked in a mirror was and stifled a friendly laugh. "_Holaaa_, alguien ahí?" he asked, quirking a brow and waving a hand in front of her blank face.

His Spanish won him a tiny smile as she blinked her eyes back into focus and pushed his hand away. "Sorry. I was lost in thought." She cleared her throat and slipped off of the countertop. "What are you doing up? I wasn't expecting to see anyone." Least of all James, who she knew slept like a rock and assumed would be snoring in his bunk at this hour.

He shrugged. "I was giving Ash some poker pointers, trying to keep her mind off of everything." He rolled his shoulders and sighed heavily before continuing. "She's in pretty bad shape... She finally passed out a little while ago, so I took her up to bed. Now I'm wired, go figure," he informed with a light chuckle.

Shepard nodded again and watched him pour himself a glass of water. "I'm glad you're taking care of her," she murmured sincerely. Ashley hated to feel vulnerable and didn't put her trust in just anyone. Especially in regards to such a sensitive subject, Shepard was surprised to hear that she was letting anyone get close.

"What about you, Commander? How are you holding up?"

The question caught her off guard. She looked up at him with a puzzled expression and stupidly asked, "Huh?"

James' smile had been replaced with a worried frown when she wasn't looking and she shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "Are _you _alright? You look… tired. I mean, when was the last time you had anything to eat?"

She instinctively ran a hand over her flat belly and frowned pensively. When _was _the last time she'd eaten anything? She honestly couldn't remember. "I… don't know, actually." She hadn't felt hungry during the past few days. Food was the last thing on her mind. But now that it was brought to her attention, her stomach growled unhappily, as if on cue.

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he set his glass in the sink before moving to the refrigerator. She knew what he was doing and waved her hands in protest. "I'm fine, James. I don't want anything… You don't have to. Really." Nothing made her as uncomfortable as being coddled. She would waste away in bed before allowing anyone else to baby her, and that's exactly what she'd been doing.

"Look, Lola…" James stopped his rummaging just long enough to shoot her a pointed look. "You don't have to shower for the rest of your life if you don't want to, but I'm not gonna watch you starve." When she opened her mouth to argue, he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Relax, Hermosa. Drink your coffee."

Shepard looked down at her neglected mug and frowned. "It's cold."

The Marine groaned theatrically and straightened up. "Oh dios mío!" He marched over and snatched her cup off of the counter, then stuffed it into the microwave in one swift motion. "When did you become so useless, huh?" He nudged her playfully and winked down at her.

She knew he was only teasing. James was the only person she'd had any contact with while under house arrest and she'd grown rather fond of him. In a weird way, he felt like more of a brother than her actual brother had. But she wasn't in a teasing mood.

Then again, she wasn't in the mood to argue either, and she didn't have many more moods to choose from. So with a weary smile, she took a seat on one of the barstools and laid her head down in her arms. She knew how to pick her battles… sometimes.

James busied himself in front of the stove, his thick midsection making it impossible for her to see what he was doing. She couldn't prepare a halfway decent meal to save her life, so anything edible was better than her cooking… but Vega? If someone had told her ten minutes ago that he could cook, she would have laughed until she threw up.

Whatever he was making smelled amazing, and her stomach continued to growl until he placed what appeared to be a scramble in front of her a short while later. "Not much you can do with powdered eggs, but it should still taste pretty okay," he explained, setting a fork and her reheated coffee in front of her.

She grabbed the utensil and proceeded to shovel the eggs around on the plate, trying to discern between the plethora of veggies and cheese that were mixed in, before stabbing something green and popping it into her mouth. For powdered eggs, it tasted better than okay, and a grateful smile spread from ear to ear. "Thanks, Vega. I owe you one."

He laughed and shook his head. "Hell, if it gets you out of the damn Observation deck, I'll cook for you anytime." They exchanged smiles before he pushed away from the counter with a yawn. "Anyway, I think I'm gonna try to get some shut-eye before the sun comes up." He started to walk off in the direction of the crew's quarters but stopped upon remembering what he'd meant to ask her. "Oh, hey…"

Shepard raised a curious eyebrow at him, too preoccupied with her food to respond.

"I'm trying real hard to help Ash, but… I don't know how much she _wants _my help. She'd probably have an easier time talking to you. I mean, you're practically related…" He grinned slyly and gave her an appreciative once-over before finishing his thought. "And you're a girl."

Normally she would have entertained his shameless flirting, but she was starving now and couldn't seem to stuff the food into her face fast enough. She at least had the decency to chew and swallow before speaking. "Yeah, yeah. I get it." She offered him a small smile. "I'll go see her later," she assured, waving him off.

"Appreciate it. See ya' around, Lola." He turned away from her and disappeared behind the elevator, just the way he'd shown up.

"See ya," she whispered to the once again empty mess hall.

* * *

She had punched him. Four quick jabs to the stomach that were admittedly painful and did nothing to deter his affection. The fire in her eyes lit a fire in his belly anytime he could steal a glance at her, and the split second that he'd managed to get his hands on her was the single greatest second of his life. Just before she'd pushed him away, he swore he felt her soften against him.

Well, he could dream anyway.

Focusing on his work after their altercation proved to be impossible for Garrus. He struggled to make any notable progress before his head began to throb and he gave up working in favor of walking around the ship. He stopped to speak with multiple crew members, spent a few hours assisting the engineers on the lower deck, and eventually made his way back to the Main Battery. His little stroll did nothing to help clear his mind and he glared at his terminal begrudgingly as he stalked over to his cot in the corner, hoping that some rest would straighten him out.

He awoke a few hours later, well into the evening, and had little desire to get up or get dressed. He rolled onto his back and kept his eyes fixed on the dimly lit red ceiling, listening to the ship's eerie stillness; he wasn't used to it yet. He was convinced that he was the only one awake on the ship, but was proven wrong eventually when he heard soft footsteps pad into the mess. His mandibles fluttered curiously as he resisted the urge to get up and see who was out there. He found out soon enough.

The first person was ultimately joined by another much louder person, who he quickly recognized as the Alliance Marine, James Vega. And the female voice that greeted him… He definitely knew that voice.

Garrus' brow plates pushed together as he tried to concentrate on the exchange, but they were too far away and he could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation. There was some laughter on both ends and he felt anger swell in his chest. Shepard was always so inexplicably irritated with him, yet she sounded so happy in Vega's company.

It wasn't anything new. Neither of them had been on the ship for very long, so their level of comfort around each other suggested they had some kind of history. He liked to think that they were merely friends, if their constant teasing and playful punches were any indication. But they did something else quite often as well, what he had come to understand as "flirting" in human terminology. A manner of speaking that was meant to elicit longing or arousal in a desired partner.

No one else seemed to find their "flirting" to be excessive or odd, and the public nature of it made him question its sincerity. It was possible that they were only joking around. He certainly preferred to think so. The thought of Shepard and Vega being intimate with each other made him want to… to…

His train of thought was interrupted by a strange smell permeating the air. After a moment he recognized it as the smell of the powdered eggs Gardner sometimes prepared for the crew. His curiosity was officially peaked and he sat up in his cot to try to hear them better.

"_Not much you can do with powdered eggs, but it should still taste pretty okay…"_

"_Thanks, Vega. I owe you one."_

The Turian's mandibles pulled in tight against his face as it dawned on him that the lieutenant was cooking for her, and she sounded appreciative. He could hear the smile in her voice. Preparing a meal for others was a highly domestic behavior and Garrus was not only shocked by the Marine's ability to do so, but also his willingness to do so.

They fell silent while Shepard was most likely eating her food and James excused himself for the evening. He moved further away before speaking again and Garrus couldn't hear their goodbye. It wasn't important, as long as he was leaving.

Once he was sure the younger Lieutenant had gone, he relaxed on his cot and folded his hands underneath his fringe. As much as he'd love to go out and join her, he doubted he'd receive a warm welcome, and he didn't want to risk provoking her temper while everyone was asleep. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, his subharmonics rumbling wistfully.

He just wanted to feel her. He wanted to sift his fingers through her hair, feel her breath on his face, hold her hands in his, feel her chest rise and fall against him, listen to her heartbeat… He wanted to see what she looked like underneath her clothes, discover what she tastes like. He wanted to feel her temperature rise and hear her breath catch in her throat while taking hold of her waist and whispering in her ear that she's the only one he will ever want.

* * *

**A/N -**

**I really hope this chapter's okay. Hubby wasn't in an editing mood, so I'm praying my self-editing was sufficient. I just sort of rolled with this chapter, writing whatever came to mind next. I may or may not switch things around at a later date. **

**Anyway! Thank you for reading! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Hours passed and the crew inevitably began to stir. As soon as the lights in the Med-Bay lit up, Shepard dumped her dishes in the sink and headed for the ladies room. Upon seeing her reflection in the mirror, she did a double take. James was being polite when he said she looked tired. _Very _polite.

Her face twisted up in disgust at herself for letting personal hygiene fall so completely off of the radar, and as she untangled her hair, brushed her teeth, and took a brief shower, her disgust turned to annoyance aimed at any and all organic life that didn't need to bathe, or could at least go without for a little while and not turn into a caveman.

The shower finished waking her up and motivated the female hiding somewhere deep within to put some effort into her appearance for the first time in months. She strode into the Observation deck toweling at her hair and stripped out of yesterday's clothes for the final time, putting on a black bra and panty set in their place. She stopped to stare at her reflection for the second time that morning, happier with the Lillian that was now looking back at her. Scars littered her pale skin from head to toe, and she'd lost some muscle mass in the past few months… but she still looked pretty good, and she turned from side to side to admire herself from different angles.

She'd never been a girly-girl, inside or out. In fact, if she had kept her hair short while growing up, she may have passed for Greg's little brother rather than sister. At the start of puberty, she began wearing more form-fitting clothes, but she didn't have much of a form to speak of. It wasn't until high school that she grew into some curves, particularly in the waist area. She had never had large breasts but she was thankful for that while serving in the Alliance. It certainly made her armor more comfortable, and the male recruits more tolerable…

She was still flat-chested and her ass wasn't nearly as impressive as Miranda's, but she figured she could look a lot worse in her underwear at twenty-seven. Maybe one day it would serve for more than a momentary boost in self-esteem. _Yeah right._

She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth as she tried to remember the last time she was with a man in any sort of intimate setting. She could vaguely recall drinks with a C-Sec officer in Flux many years prior… He left with a scantily-clad asari after she beat him at arm-wrestling. Most of the dates she had been on ended similarly. Her tomboyish behavior always got in the way of her femininity and she'd eventually learned to embrace it. In any case, dating was the last of her concerns in her line of work…

She padded over to the shuttered windows and slapped her palm on the control button, watching the metal sheets retreat upwards to reveal a lush, animated forest on the other side of the glass. She leaned into the smooth surface and pressed her forehead against it, watching the greenery sway in the wind, and small creatures scuttle around the enormous trees… She smiled despite the thoughts scuttling around in her head.

Work had always kept her busy and given her purpose. But now, stranded on this unknown planet, in some unknown corner of a Universe that was almost certainly safe once more, she realized that she was completely alone. As soon as the Normandy was off of this rock, each member of the crew would return to what was left of their families, partners, home worlds, houses… And she didn't even have the job that she'd sacrificed the possibility of a normal life for.

That realization did nothing to motivate her to, as Garrus had put it, 'take control and assume responsibility'. If she was stuck on this planet for the rest of her life, it would make no difference to her or anyone else.

Her lungs emptied on a shaky sigh as she moved away from the window to get dressed in a simple long-sleeved black tee and pants, marking the end of her allotted vanity for the day. She let her chin-length hair air-dry in layered waves while she applied a little bit of mascara to her long eyelashes, and that was it; all of the girliness she could muster. It was still a vast improvement upon her earlier appearance.

The view out of her window had her itching to go outside and get off of the ship for a while, but she wasn't completely reckless. She'd need to question EDI about the nature of this strange planet before heading out, and maybe she'd uphold her promise to James beforehand. And maybe, just _maybe_, she'd suck up her pride and check on the status of the ship and it's crew members. She didn't have to be completely useless…

* * *

Since Greg had loaded her into Vega's arms during the run to the beam, Ashley had barely slept a wink. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those frosty blue irises staring back at her, a storm of conflicted feelings brewing within them.

"_I love you," he asserted, briefly taking her hand in his. "I'll always love you, Ash."_

_She wanted to stay strong for him and bit the inside of her cheek to keep the tears that were welling in her eyes from overflowing. "No, I can do this!" she insisted, shaking her head and reaching out for him._

"_Don't argue with me." It was intended to sound firm, but was pleading instead. He wanted her with him, more than anything, but it wasn't an option. She had to make it out of there alive. He tore his eyes away from her and looked to James. "Take care of her." It wasn't a request, and James nodded before leading Ashley up the ramp._

_Greg moved back and motioned for the Normandy to take off. "Go!" he yelled, stealing one last look at his girl as the shuttle bay door began to close. Just before he turned away, she managed to whisper "I love you," and he smiled._

The crew was hesitant to tell her about the Crucible exploding after the fact, but they were left with little choice when the Normandy crashed. She was devastated, but she wasn't surprised. They both knew the mission's likely outcome; it was why he left her behind… But she'd allowed herself to hope for his safe return, and that was foolish.

The last thing he would want her to be doing is lying around feeling sorry for herself, but she was having to constantly remind herself of that. She blinked at his side of the bed and reached out to run her fingers over his pillow before sitting up and kicking the covers into a wad at the end of the bed, feeling suddenly claustrophobic.

She had to get up. She had responsibilities. Giving up and wasting away wasn't an option, though she'd be lying to say that the idea wasn't tempting from time to time.

She crawled off of the bed and stretched out before lazily tugging the covers back into place. The crumpled, un-tucked, lopsided bedding caused her OCD to tick instinctively, but she forced herself to let it be. Just as she was turning for the stairs, the door flashed to inform her of someone's presence outside. Assuming it was James, she gave her visitor access, but the short, dark-featured female who stepped in took her by surprise.

The female version of her dead lover was the last person she expected to see, especially after she'd shut herself away for days on end. Looking at her made her heart hurt. The Shepard siblings resembled each other in many ways; light skin, coffee colored hair, thin facial features… The only big difference was their eyes; Lillian's were an oceanic mix of blue and green, with a dark ring around the irises. Greg's were an icy blue that sparkled when he was happy and put the fear of God in you when he was upset.

"Lil," Ashley breathed, crossing her arms over her chest subconsciously. "What are you doing here?" For the reclusive Commander to be out and about, and _dressed, _Ashley assumed this visit was more important than a simple house call.

Lillian shot Ash a curious look and gave the cabin a quick once-over. It looked the same, save for Greg's childish model ship collection displayed proudly around the desk, and the framed holos cluttering up every table surface. "Do I have to have a reason?" she asked, plucking one of the frames off of the desk and blinking at the photo of her brother and Ashley smiling brightly at the camera, apparently taken at some Alliance function.

Ashley shook her head. "I guess not. I'm just surprised to see you." She stepped over to the sofas and waved for the Commander to follow her.

Shepard set the photo back down and trailed after her, taking a seat on the unclaimed sofa. "Vega asked me to check on you," she confessed, shrugging a shoulder up somewhat guiltily. No point in beating around the bush.

_Of course he did. _A knowing smile played at Ashley's lips as she nodded. Since Greg had told the Marine to take care of her, he'd done little else, and she appreciated it. He didn't crowd her, or offer her bullshit condolences, and whenever she'd spontaneously burst into tears, he wouldn't say a word. He gave her space to grieve, but he was always within reach.

"So…" Shepard started, twiddling her thumbs. "How are you holding up?" The question sounded more indifferent than she'd meant it to and she mentally berated herself. She truly felt bad for Ash, but she didn't think she was well-equipped to console anyone, least of all Greg's girlfriend. It felt wrong to offer her a shoulder to cry on when she wasn't even grieving her own flesh and blood.

Ashley glanced down at her lap with a broken expression. There was so much troubling her, where to begin? She knew that listening to someone spill their guts was probably the last thing Lillian wanted to be doing, and that she was probably only there in the first place to appease Vega… but she couldn't keep everything bottled up for much longer. She needed to unload on someone, and Lil made the most sense. Even though they didn't always see eye-to-eye, and Greg and his sister were from completely different ends of the spectrum, Ashley had always considered the Commander to be like an adopted sister. And especially now that her own sisters were out of reach…

She sighed and sunk lower in her seat. "I never thought he wouldn't come back, you know? He always came back. He always found a way out." She bent her legs against her chest and pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly. "I just can't believe he's really gone…" she whispered, shaking her head. "And I'm afraid." Her voice shook on the word, as if she'd never said it aloud before now, and Shepard wouldn't doubt that. "For the first time since my dad died, I'm just… _afraid_."

Shepard shifted in her seat uneasily and reached out to place her hand on Ashley's knee. She knew nothing she could say would help, but saying anything would be better than sitting in awkward silence. "I'm sure everything will be okay… Once we get back into Citadel space, you ca-"

"Lil… I'm not afraid for _me,_" she blurted, shooting the other an apologetic look for the blatant rudeness. Before being asked to clarify, she took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm pregnant."

The words bounced around in Shepard's brain, refusing to be absorbed. Her head cocked to the side slightly as she rolled the syllables around in her mouth. _Pregnant? What's pregnant? There's no such thing as children._ "You're… pregnant? Are you sure?"

"Yes," she answered quickly, causing Shepard to flinch; at the certainty of the answer or the answer itself, she didn't know. Ashley looked like she was struggling with the news as well, but she'd known for weeks. She'd had plenty of time to get comfortable with the idea under normal circumstances, but these circumstances were anything but. She could still remember Greg's face when she told him.

* * *

"_The Geth and the Quarians working together… Amazing," he snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. They had just returned to the Normandy after a successful mission on Rannoch and he was in a good mood; a rarity these days with the Reapers looming over him._

_He tugged on a pair of sweats and moved into the bathroom, all the while oblivious to his girlfriend lurking in the doorway. She knew it was time to tell him. She'd had a close call with a geth hunter in the Reaper base, and if Tali hadn't seen it coming up behind her… She shuttered thinking of the possibilities. _

_Greg was still rambling on when she snapped back to attention. "Too bad about Legion… Even Tali was sad to see him go," he muttered, splashing water on his face._

"_Greg."_

_He poked his head out of the bathroom and finally noticed her leaning against the fishtank, wringing her hands. "Yes?" His brow furrowed when she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from him. _

"_I have to tell you something. But you can't overreact." _

_He smirked. "Me? Overreact? Who do you think you're talking to?" He walked over and pulled her into his arms, relieved when she didn't try to wiggle out of them. That was always a good sign. "You know you can tell me anything," he murmured, placing an affectionate kiss on the top of her head._

_She leaned into him and nestled her head against his collar, inhaling his musky scent. "I went to see Dr. Chakwas recently."_

_Concern crossed his face as he traced small circles on her back, observing how tense she felt. "Are you sick or something?"_

"_No, I'm… pregnant." She swallowed nervously after spitting it out, and though she felt a weight lift off of her shoulders instantly, his lack of a response unnerved her. "The Doc confirmed it…" she whispered, refusing to look up at him. _

_When he finally did speak, he didn't sound as happy as she'd hoped. "What do you mean she confirmed it? When did you suspect it?" _

_She bit down on her bottom lip and shrugged, unsure of how to read his tone of voice for once. "I don't know; a couple of weeks ago," she answered softly, bracing for his response._

_He was quiet for what felt like ages, but then he reacted just the way she thought he would. "You've known for two weeks? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She opened her mouth to answer but then he pulled away, wide-eyed with realization. "You've been out on the field for two weeks, with a baby… _our _baby in there? Getting shot at?!"_

_Ashley pushed away from the wall and marched towards their bed. "I wasn't sure! I didn't want to sit up here waiting to find out, and I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure!" _

_He stopped pacing along the upper floor and frowned down at her. One look at her hunched-over form was all it took to subdue his anger, and he sighed. Now he understood why she'd seemed so rattled on the shuttle ride back to the ship, and that same emotion was clear on her face now. _

"_So you're sure now?" he questioned softly, walking up behind her and lifting her into his arms. The gesture won him a weak smile as he laid her down on the bed and curled up against her, pressing his lips to her jaw. He ran one of his hands down the length of her body and paused over her stomach, rubbing his thumb over the flat surface. "And you're sure it's mine?" he teased, grinning at her._

_She kicked his leg playfully, but her smile became strained and inevitably turned down. She appreciated his attempt at humor, but there were so many fears buzzing around her brain. "Greg…" she whispered sadly, biting the inside of her cheek to get a grip. "What about the war? The Reapers? We might not even survi-"_

_He cut her off mid-sentence by taking hold of her chin and forcing her to look at him. "Stop." He could read the worry in her eyes as they began to pool and he reached up with one hand to wipe away the few tears that managed to leak out. "We're going to win, Ash. We'll be okay. I promise." _

_Her smile slowly returned as he kissed her, and she tried to push her worry to the back of her mind. His usual confidence was amplified in that moment; how could she not believe him?_

* * *

"I'm nearly a month in… And I don't know how I'm going to do this by myself." She remembered the handful of nights her and Greg laid in bed wondering if it would be a boy or a girl, discussing baby names, bickering over family names… as if all was right in the Universe, and there was no imminent threat of being wiped out by a synthetic race. Now it was all up to her.

Lillian fell back into her seat rigidly, her discomfort somehow multiplying. She hoped it wasn't as apparent as she felt it might be. "Did Greg know?" She assumed so, but felt the need to ask anyway.

Ashley nodded and the remnants of a smile painted her face for the first time since Lil came up. "Oh yeah. He was excited to be a dad…" She didn't know what was worse: that he'd never get the chance, or that their child would never know him personally.

Sensing Shepard's obvious unease, Ashley wiped her eyes and sat up. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drop that all on you. It's just that everyone's going to find out sooner or later, and you're the only family Greg had left. I want that to mean something."

Shepard nodded as she slowly rose to her feet and reached down for Ashley's hands to pull her up into a hug. "I'll be around whenever you need me…" she whispered, questioning the sincerity of that statement. She was satisfied knowing that it was at least true right then.

"Thank you, Lil…" Ashley was thankful for the contact and held onto her for, what Shepard considered to be, an unreasonable amount of time. "I'm sure you've got other stuff to do, but thanks for checking on me." She finally pulled away and offered Lil a grateful smile.

With another quick nod, Shepard turned to leave and disappeared out the door as quickly as she'd come in, feeling a hell of a lot more awkward.

* * *

**A/N -**

**This chapter is way smaller than I intended it to be, but it was taking me ages to finish because a) I've been working an unholy amount recently, and b) I, apparently, really, really hate writing Ashley. She may or may not TOTALLY suck in this chapter, and if so, I'd love some suggestions on how to fix her! Or anything else that needs fixin'. :P**  
**Anyway, I'm planning on chapter 4 being huge to compensate for this one's lack of progression, and in the meantime, THANK YOU for reading! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

"Commander Shepard. Just the person I wanted to see." An unmistakable accent startled Lillian to attention as she barged out of the elevator, nearly running Dr. Chakwas over in the process. She'd been completely lost in thought and the possibility of another person waiting outside of the elevator doors hadn't even occurred to her.

"Hey, Doc…" She slowed to a hesitant stop and stared at the woman with confusion in her eyes. "You wanted to see _me_?" She couldn't imagine why. She wasn't due for a routine checkup anytime soon, she wasn't injured, and neither was anyone else that she knew of. The only thing she could think of was Ashley's current condition, but that would certainly breach doctor-patient confidentiality. "If it's about Williams…" she began, her voice low.

Dr. Chakwas shook her head and motioned for the younger woman to join her back in the elevator, cutting Lil off mid-sentence. "I'm afraid it isn't. Though I am glad she decided to tell you. She has few people to confide in onboard."

Lillian wordlessly stepped back into the elevator and crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to entertain that particular conversation topic any more than necessary. Her eyes followed the doctor's finger as it sought out the button for deck three, awaiting an explanation.

"I wanted to speak with you about some interesting observations I've made in the past few days." Karin paused for Shepard to interject, but the look on the Commander's face was one of notorious impatience, so she folded her hands behind her back and continued.

"Members of the crew have undergone noticeable changes since landing on this planet. I've been running some tests, and all of the results indicate minor alterations to their DNA. Some of these changes are more noticeable than others." A small smile crept onto the doctor's face as she continued. "Mr. Moreau's condition has… miraculously improved. And our resident Quarian's immune system's efficiency has spiked drastically, as well. It's truly fascinating."

Shepard's brows furrowed together as she listened. "Their DNA is just _changing_?" she questioned, unable to wrap her brain around what she was being told. "How is that possible?"

The elevator came to an easy stop and the doors slid open to reveal the memorial wall. Shepard's mouth twisted to the side as she contemplated how sick of that sight she was while Dr. Chakwas turned the corner in the direction of the Med Bay, expecting Shepard to follow.

"To be honest, I have no idea. That's what I'm trying to figure out, though it's becoming increasingly difficult to discern whether or not these changes are due to our presence on this planet. I may not have any answers until we're back in Citadel space." The doctor crossed the room to her terminal and began typing up a storm, a severe look of concentration painted on her face.

Shepard hung back by the doors, itching to get on with her day, but curious all the same. And a bit concerned. The first question that popped into her mind was, "Is your DNA different?"

Dr. Chakwas nodded without looking up from what she was doing. "Yes, it is."

Shepard pursed her lips and looked down at her midsection, running a hand over her belly absent-mindedly, as if subconsciously double-checking that she was still made of squishy, organic matter. "Do you think my DNA is different?"

The doctor smiled then, satisfied by either Lillian's inquiry, or the data she had pulled up on her screen. She turned to look at the Commander and folded her hands once more. "I'd like to find out. This is the data I've collected so far. You're welcome to sift through it now, or I can forward it to you…" she offered.

Shepard pointed at her to signal the latter option and shifted her weight uneasily. "Okay. Were you planning to find out right now?" She took an involuntary step back towards the door, not knowing what kind of tests the doctor had in mind. Surely they could wait until after she got out of this claustrophobic ship for a little while, couldn't they?

Karin chuckled knowingly and gave Shepard a look that confirmed she wouldn't be getting off so easy. "I won't keep you long, Commander. Please take a seat." She gestured to the examining tables, her smile only growing as Shepard sulked to the closest one and plopped onto it like a child being put in time-out. She had never liked taking orders, a fact that made her rank in the Alliance surprising, if not understandable.

While the older woman prepared her equipment, Lillian decided to pester her for information on the planet they were currently calling home. "So, Doc… Has anyone left the ship yet?"

The doctor pulled on a pair of gloves and approached Shepard with a syringe in one hand and a phlebotomy tray containing specimen tubes in the other. "Only to scout out the surrounding area. No one's ventured _far_ from the ship though, if that's what you're wondering." A knowing look crossed the woman's face as she tied a tourniquet around Shepard's arm. "And if you're planning on doing so, I must insist that you exercise caution. You know as well as anyone the dangers of barging into unknown territory." Though she had no doubts of the younger Shepard's abilities, she had been out of active combat for some time, and her mental state was… questionable since her return from the Collector base. "I hope you would at least consider taking someone with you."

That suggestion elected an obnoxious groan from Lillian. "I appreciate the concern…" she began, watching as the needle pressed beneath the surface of the skin of her forearm. The tube attached flooded with crimson as the plunger was pulled back, and in a matter of seconds it was time to replace that tube with an empty one from the tray. "But I can take care of myself. Anyway, it's been days. If anything truly horrendous was out there, I think it would have found us by now…" Whether or not she believed that herself was irrelevant. She wanted to go alone.

Dr. Chakwas smirked and shook her head. "Need I even say how naïve that sounds?" One last tube was filled before the doctor pulled the needled back out of Shepard's arm and replaced it with a cotton ball. "Hold that there," she instructed.

Shepard did as she was told and watched the doctor label each of the tubes and replace them in their respective slots. "I'm a cybernetic powerhouse and a Shepard," she reminded, a cocky smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I took down Saren and the Collectors. Bring on the beasties."

Karin didn't miss the joking note in her voice, and like an exasperated parent, she turned away with a sigh. "Just be careful," she cautioned. "True though those things may be, you're not invincible. And I don't have Miranda's skill to sew you back together a second time if need be."

"I'll come back in one piece," Shepard assured, hopping down off of the table. "Is that all you needed?" she asked, pointing at the tray of blood samples.

"Ohh, unfortunately," the doctor joked. She turned with a piece of medical tape between her fingers and spread it over the cotton ball Lillian was holding down. "You're free to go, Commander."

She nodded thanks and turned to leave the med bay. "I'll sift through that data later today," she added before disappearing through the door. Once she was out, she let out a breath of relief and crossed her fingers that no one else would get between her and the airlock.

Dr. Chakwas shook her head at the young woman's stubbornness and sat down in front of her terminal to begin analyzing her new blood samples. That girl was a firecracker, but she was a capable firecracker, and she would most likely come back in one piece.

* * *

After reaching deck two, Shepard nearly evaded EDI and Joker on her way to the decontamination chamber, but not quite. "Going somewhere, Commander?" the pilot questioned, spinning around in his chair to give her an odd look. The gun holster and armor that she wasn't wearing didn't go unnoticed by the pilot or his better, artificial half.

"On a field trip," she answered with a jerk of her shoulder.

"That is inadvisable, Shepard," EDI chimed from beside Joker. "We haven't collected sufficient data about the wildlife inhabiting this planet to gauge the potential threat outside of the ship."

As Shepard opened her mouth to respond, Joker interjected. "EDI's right. Who knows what's out there? Shouldn't you at least take a gun? Or two?"

Shepard frowned at all of the babying she was receiving today and sighed. "If I ever need lessons in self defense from a cripple, Joker, you'll be the first to know."

"Hey, this cripple kept the Normandy safe from a swarm of giant bugs," he defended gruffly.

EDI tilted her head to the side. "Technically, Jeff, the Collectors were Protheans."

He turned back around in his chair and continued what he was doing prior to Shepard showing up. "Yeah, whatever, same difference."

"EDI, can I breathe out there?" Shepard questioned while peering into the cockpit.

"Yes, Shepard. This planet's atmosphere is very similar to Earth's, so that is not a concern."

Joker snorted and rolled his eyes, grumbling from his seat, "That's gonna discourage her."

Shepard fought the urge to stick her tongue out at the snarky pilot and instead punched the button for the airlock. She shot a brief thanks EDI's way before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

As soon as she was in the decontamination chamber, Joker let out a sigh and pressed the com button for the battery. "Hey Vakarian, I've got something you might be interested in hearing."

Garrus glanced up from his terminal with a look of intrigue. Joker rarely contacted him for anything, but he sounded eager now. "What is it, Joker?"

"The Commander just left the ship."

Garrus blinked at the wall for a wordless second before asking, "What?"

"Shepard just left the ship," Joker repeated slowly. "Unarmed," he added.

The Turian's brow plates furrowed worriedly. "Did she say why? Or where she's going?"

"Yeah, she's going to the corner store to get snacks," the pilot answered sarcastically. "Of course she didn't say. I just figured you might want to keep an eye on her. Y'know, on the off chance that she gets kidnapped by slavers, or swallowed whole by some carnivorous plant…"

The pilot's comments were intended to be funny, but they put Garrus on edge. Neither of those scenarios were entirely impossible, or unlikely with her penchant for getting into trouble. Plus, she was unarmed. How could she be so irresponsible?

He groaned as he weighed his options. If she caught him following her, all hell would break loose. But if he chose to stay behind and something happened to her… He'd never forgive himself. He valued her safety far more than the state of their tumultuous relationship.

He cut the call with Joker just minutes before he was stepping into the decontamination chamber himself. When he stepped off of the ship, he couldn't immediately see her, but he could smell her. He would recognize the smell of her shampoo anywhere. By following the scent of her recently washed hair, he was able to track her easily.

He found her about a quarter of a mile away from the ship, weaving her way between the enormous, leafy trees. While he followed her, she would occasionally stop to look at something, or slow down to kick a rock ahead of her, or pull a clump of leaves from a branch and leave them torn and scattered in her wake. He made sure to keep a safe distance between them, dodging behind tree trunks and moss-covered boulders frequently when he feared that she would turn around.

She didn't appear to be going in any purposeful direction; she was merely exploring. More than once, he forgot that he was following her to make sure she was safe and lost himself in her childlike fascination with everything around her. He considered the fact that she'd been in space for years, and most of the planets they'd travelled to hadn't been particularly lush. A few had been, but there was no time to enjoy the view. The wondrous look on her face now made more sense in that context and he smiled at the rare display of Commander Lillian Shepard's soft side.

She finally stopped after a couple of miles and tilted her head to the side, obviously listening to something. Garrus held his breath in anticipation of being discovered and watched her head turn this way and that until he realized what she was listening to.

Running water.

She walked off in a different direction and he trailed behind like an obedient pet until they came upon a riverbank. In her excitement, she sprinted towards the river and skidded to a stop before careening over the edge. She plopped down on the dirt and peered into the watery depths like a cat lurking over a fish tank.

Staring into the water, she relaxed visibly and he moved to get into a comfortable, well-hidden position where he could keep her in his sights… but he made a fatal error while doing so. He glared down at the branch that had snapped beneath his heavy foot, internally cursing himself up and down while Shepard jumped to her feet and turned around, fists balled at her sides while she tried to peer through the trees. "Hello?"

He stayed silent, but she didn't buy it and continued; "If you don't come out, I'll come find you."

Garrus didn't doubt her threat, but he kept quiet still... until she began moving in his direction, at which point he gave up. He stepped out of his hiding place with his hands in the air, his mandibles twitching with embarrassment.

Relief painted her face for a brief moment before those beautiful eyes of hers narrowed into vicious slits and her body tensed defensively.

"Goddamit, Garrus. What are you doing here?" she snapped incredulously. She remembered Joker and EDI's earlier warnings about leaving, and her glare intensified. "Did Joker send you or something?"

A guilty smile crossed his face as he reached up to rub at the back of his neck with his gloved talons and he shrugged a shoulder. "Sort of. Coming out here unarmed seems a bit reckless, even for you."

Her eyes narrowed as she tried to discern whether he was smirking at her or not. "I'm fine, okay? I'm fine. What is it with you people today? I'm far from helpless out here. There's nothing _out _here!" To prove her point, she bent down to pick up a rock and lobbed it into the forest aimlessly. A distinct thud could be heard as the rock collided with something else, and a few birds scattered from where they were perched in nearby trees, but other than that, complete silence.

"See? Nothing," she grumbled, turning to face him again. "No tigers, or bears, or wild varren…" she continued, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hypothetically speaking, if a pack of varren were to show up, do you plan on fighting them off with your fists?" Garrus countered with legitimate curiosity.

She opened her mouth to argue with him, but realized she didn't have much of a counterpoint for that hypothetical. She went the defensive route instead. "I'm not going to fight with you about hypotheticals. Just go back to the ship."

Garrus shook his head and leaned backwards into the nearest tree, crossing his ankles. "I really don't think that's a good idea." He hadn't followed her this far just to say screw it and leave her unprotected. She didn't have to talk to him, and she definitely didn't have to even acknowledge that he was there, but he wasn't going back to the ship until she did.

"I didn't ask what you think, just _go_. I can protect myself. I don't need a bodyguard." When he didn't move from where he was standing, she snarled. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

His expression fell at her question and his mandibles drew against his face. "I wonder that myself sometimes," he muttered, fidgeting with his gloves.

The honesty of his answer surprised her and threw her off guard for a moment before she squared her shoulders and told him matter-of-factly that, "I'm not going back with you."

Her resolve didn't seem to faze him, because he stayed put and kept his eyes locked with hers. "That's fine. I'll follow behind."

She threw her hands up in frustration and turned her back on him to keep from punching him again. Looking back into the green water at her feet, an idea suddenly struck her and a sly smile spread across her face as she kneeled down to untie her boots.

During the brief moment of silence in which Shepard appeared to have given up, Garrus allowed his blue eyes to survey the area. When they turned back to the woman in front of him, his jaw nearly dropped. "What are you doing?" he demanded, unease evident in his wavering subharmonics as he watched her tug her pants down over her hips.

"You turians aren't the best swimmers in the galaxy, are you?" Shepard asked, kicking her boots and pants to the side. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, wearing that infamous grin of hers that meant she was about to do something stupid, and she knew it.

Garrus pushed away from the tree, his brow plates furrowed in concern. "Don't even think about it, Shepard. Who knows what's in that water!" He took a few slow steps towards her, and though he knew he wouldn't be able to grab her in time, he was determined to try.

She shrugged and peeled her shirt off before stepping to the edge of the riverbank. "I'm going to find out."

The turian dashed forward but the distance between them was too great, and she was already in the water by the time he got to where she had been standing just a second before. When she surfaced a few feet away, the childish smile on her face was a vast contrast to the infuriated frown on Garrus'.

"Dammit, Shepard!" He looked down into the water and took an involuntary step away before he began pacing back and forth.

She'd heard something about turians and water not getting along very well, and apparently it was true. "What's wrong, Vakarian? Afraid of a little H2O?"

Now it was his turn to be angry with her. He briefly debated jumping in after her, but he wasn't quite ready to throw himself into a body of water and hope to figure out how to stay afloat. He could send someone else after her, but she could be miles downstream by the time they'd arrive. He could sit and wait for her to get out on either side, but the dilemma was the same either way; she could stay in the water, or put the entire river between them. No matter what, she was out of his reach.

"This is stupid, Shepard. There could be something seriously dangerous out here, and now you don't even have clothes to protect you!" He gestured to the discarded pile of clothes at his feet. It hadn't even occurred to him yet that she was only in her underwear now, but it would eventually. The image of her smiling over her shoulder as she slid out of her pants would surely come back to haunt him later.

She flipped her wet mass of dark hair out of her face and reached up with one hand to push the leftover strands away from her eyes. "You say that as if you expect me to care half as much as you appear to," she snorted.

"I do expect that," he growled, shaking his head in disbelief of how childish she was being. He'd seen this side of her before, but he'd never had to directly deal with it. She didn't like to be challenged, and he normally had no problem with that; but her being chin-deep in a murky river was a definite game changer and he felt more than a little helpless for the first time in a long time.

She started drifting backwards towards the opposite embankment, taking her sweet time while the turian grew increasingly anxious with every paddle and kick away from him.

"Just go back to the ship," she commanded for the third time. When she reached the other side, she took hold of nearby vegetation and used it to pull herself up onto the grass, panting lightly and dripping wet. She flopped down on her back like a dead fish and laid like that for a handful of seconds, staring up at the sky and listening to him pace tirelessly along the opposite bank. Trying to come up with a plan to follow her, no doubt. He was persistent, she'd give him that.

She propped herself up on her elbow and her hazel eyes met blue across the murky river, narrowing into little half-moons as she smirked. It seemed to have the desired effect; his mandibles practically caved in and his eyes looked ready to pop out of his skull. She couldn't help but laugh as she got to her feet. "I'll be fine," she assured for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

And before he could get a word in edgewise, off she went. The woman of his dreams, trampling through a mysterious jungle on a mysterious planet, clad in only lacy underwear, soaking wet, telling him not to worry…

His chest heaved with a defeated sigh as he considered what to do next. He could go back to the ship, and possibly send someone out looking for her… especially if she didn't turn up by nightfall. Or he could wait for her right there, next to the clothing he was sure she would eventually come back for. The choice seemed obvious to him, and he eased himself down onto the ground and attempted to position himself comfortably in his cumbersome armor.

He turned his head up towards the sky and admired the view he had of the planets above, thinking that perhaps, if they had to crash-land anywhere, this place may not be so bad. And if they had to spend an undetermined amount of time here while the Normandy was being repaired, maybe that wouldn't be so terrible. At least it wasn't Tuchanka.

He shifted around a bit and pulled his gun into his lap, prepared to wait there all night if he had to. He'd been at the side of at least one of the Shepards for the past three years, running from gunfight to gunfight, even venturing into a quarantine zone littered with dead turians. Sitting in the shade of a tree beside a river in the middle of a lush forest waiting for Lillian to act her age, well… He didn't have many complaints about this particular task.

Thinking back to the first time he met Lillian Shepard, he couldn't help but smile. She'd been curt, and blunt, and completely uninterested in him just as she was now, and he'd found her oddly appealing regardless.

* * *

_He was in the middle of appealing to Executor Pallin for a time extension to further investigate Saren when a trio of humans sauntered up the chamber steps, all outfitted in Alliance-issued gear. They approached the two turians just in time for Pallin to reject his request and quickly depart._

_With a bitter sigh, he turned to introduce himself and was promptly interrupted by the dark-haired woman in front who he recognized to be Commander Shepard, Admiral Shepard's younger sibling._

"_Commander Shepard. Officer Vaka-."_

"_You're investigating Saren?" _

_The blunt manner of her question did little to offend him, but rather intrigued him, and he flexed his mandibles. "I was," he answered shortly, crossing his arms._

_She mimicked him by crossing her arms as well and shifted her weight to one side, raising an expectant brow at him from underneath her jagged bangs. "You _were_? Why aren't you now?" _

"_Saren's a Spectre. Most of his activities are classified. I couldn't find anything solid." He shook his head and looked to the side, choosing his words carefully. "But I know he's up to something. Like you humans say, I can feel it in my gut."_

_He looked back at her then, blinking up at him with large, multicolored eyes. He didn't know of any turians with a human fetish, and he certainly wasn't one, but he couldn't deny that there was an element of attractiveness to her. She didn't take the same care as other human females he'd encountered to fashion her hair neatly atop her head, like the female soldier behind her. Rather, her hair fell around her face in varying lengths, completely untamed and boyish. Though her posture was rigid, her shoulders squared, and her expression hard, she still looked… soft. Her pale skin was punctuated by tiny freckles, and her lips were… scowling at him. _

_Afraid that she'd caught him staring, he cleared his throat and diverted his gaze guiltily. _

_The human male behind her spoke up. "I think the Council is ready for us, Commander." Judging by the look on his face, Shepard wasn't the only one to catch Garrus staring, and he appeared to appreciate it even less than she did. Garrus briefly wondered if perhaps the two were involved romantically…_

_The Commander nodded in agreement and marched past the turian, ignoring him when he wished her luck. He watched her lead her team up the rest of the stairs to meet with the council, admiring the subtle way her hips swayed when she moved, unlike a turian female. The encounter left him with a strange feeling, and he turned to leave only once she was out of view.  
_

* * *

Since joining up with the Shepards, he'd had plenty of chances to watch those hips in action, and he felt flush just thinking about them. Though it wasn't her appearance that cemented his feelings for her, it was her impossibly strong personality. Confident at her best and bratty at her worst, she was a fearless machine at one point in time. And even though the Omega-4 relay had sucked some of that fearlessness out of her, Garrus knew it wasn't gone completely; the same fire that had driven her to hunt down Saren and the Collectors was the same fire that had just driven her to run into the woods practically nude.

How could he possibly stay angry with her when he thought about like that?

* * *

**A/N:**

**Oh my gosh, I can't even believe I'm posting this chapter right now. I have no idea how I feel about it, I just know that if I spend any more time staring at it, I'm going to punch my laptop.**

**I'm sorry if this update seems wicked delayed. Life's been extremely crazy for a while, and I went through a Game of Thrones phase that totally tore me away from Mass Effect for a bit, and I'm in the process of moving and working a jillion hours and... ugh. SO I'm sorry if any of you have been worrying that I've abandoned this story.**

**I definitely have not and will not abandon it, but updates might be slow for a while. I've gotten a good start on chapter 5 already, but I'm not making any promises for when it'll be published. xD**

**ANYWAY. Thank you mucho, mucho, mucho for reading, and I hope you enjoy this update at least more than I enjoyed writing it! ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

The forest was rough and Lillian regretted her decision to dodge Garrus by getting undressed and swimming away from him almost immediately after she began her trek into the woods.

But she was a big girl, and she'd endured her fair share of minor to major injuries in her twenty-seven years of life, especially as the baby sister of an athletic, competitive boy. She'd practically been scraped up since birth. A few scratches on the bottom of her feet now was nothing she couldn't easily ignore, but she'd still rather have shoes.

She spent a good chunk of the day simply admiring the landscape of this foreign planet. It was lush and serene, and she didn't feel at all vulnerable in her bare skin. She came across countless plants and flowers she'd never seen before, and animals as well. She never encountered a critter much bigger than the average dog, and none of them seemed very interested in her. So by the time she found her way back to the river from earlier, she was feeling fairly full of herself for having returned unscathed, proving everyone's fears were unfounded.

The sun was just beginning to set when she swam back across the river and began hiking in the direction she thought she'd left her belongings. What she wasn't expecting to find when she got there was a turian camped out at the base of a tree, looking around through the scope of his sniper rifle, waiting for her.

Where she would normally feel irritated or mildly violated by his presence, she first felt disbelief that he'd sat there waiting for her to return all afternoon, followed by an even worse feeling of… appreciation.

She silently crept up to her belongings before asking, "Have you really been here all day?"

Garrus startled somewhat when he heard another voice next to him and lowered his gun to look up and see that it was only Shepard, dripping wet like when she'd left but making a small effort with her arms to cover herself up this time. And for once, her expression was surprisingly neutral.

"Ah… yeah," he drawled, attempting to unfold himself only to discover that he'd been sitting there much longer than he thought he had been and his joints had sort of locked into place. He stretched his legs out and rolled his neck before trying again, this time managing to successfully stand up.

Lillian stared up at him with a look he'd never seen her wear before. There was a softness in her eyes, a sort of appreciative glint that had him looking away awkwardly. It couldn't be intentional, she was probably just tired…

"Okay," she muttered, reaching down to gather her clothes into her arms and pull them on tiredly. She didn't know what to say in response that could effectively convey what she was feeling in that moment; some weird mess of kinda liking someone she otherwise disliked. The fact that he'd stayed there all day certainly displayed dedication, and she didn't know whether she was okay with that or not.

Garrus looked away while she dressed herself, unsure of whether such politeness even mattered at this point, but since she seemed less feisty than when she'd wandered off, he thought it was a good idea to be on his best behavior… Though his mind was in an entirely inappropriate place.

After she was back in her clothes, she let her arms hang loosely at her sides and cleared her throat to let him know it was okay to look. "We should probably get back to the ship, huh," she grumbled, hitching a thumb over her shoulder in the direction they'd come from earlier in the day.

Garrus turned to look at her once more and cleared his throat, beginning to nod… but something about how tame she was in that moment made him want to stay right where they were, exactly as they were, for as long as possible. He didn't want to test his limits, but well, he usually didn't have the chance. "Maybe… maybe not yet."

She quirked a brow at him, and he studied the way the fleeting light highlighted the contours of her face with shadows. Spirits, she was beautiful.

"Would you, ah…" He reached up to rub at his neck nervously, forcing himself to look at anything but her while he forced the words out of his mouth. His mandibles flicked anxiously as he continued, "… like to stay for a while and watch the rest of the sunset? We've been gone this long already…" he murmured mischievously.

Shepard twisted her mouth to the side as she considered the implications of the invitation, and for a second Garrus thought he might have another fist coming his way. But rather than unleashing a physical onslaught on him, she simply nodded her head. "Okay… Sure. Why not? We've been gone this long already," she repeated with the faintest hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

His mandibles flared open in a wide smile when he heard the words he was certain he wouldn't. "Are you_ sure_ you're really Shepard?" he joked, easing himself back down on the ground with his rifle.

"Don't make me regret this, Vakarian," she warned somewhat playfully, plopping down onto the grass next to him. She bent her knees up against her chest and leaned into them, folding her hands underneath them. Curled up, the great Commander Shepard appeared so small next to him, smaller than usual, and it made his smile grow.

"That's more like it," he joked, his subharmonics rumbling as he chuckled lightly.

They sat in silence for a long time, occasionally sneaking glances at each other but mostly keeping their eyes glued to the two enormous moons on the horizon and the stars beginning to pepper the night sky as the light slowly faded away. And after it had, they continued to sit there in the darkness, listening to the noises of the forest die out until all that was left was the sound of their breathing.

Lillian was the one to eventually break the silence when she tilted her head in Garrus' direction and softly asked, "Hey Garrus… What do you think it's like out there right now? I mean, do you think it's safe?"

The turian's brow plates tilted upward at the unexpected question. He hadn't considered whether or not the Crucible was successful. He doubted many, if any, onboard the Normandy had. He'd just assumed that whatever Greg had done was enough, and the Reapers were no longer a threat. But he supposed there was a chance that it hadn't worked at all. They wouldn't know until they were off of this planet, and who knows when that would be?

"I'm… not sure," he answered truthfully. "Are you doubting your brother's efforts?" He posed the question tentatively, not wanting to put her on edge by mentioning the elder Shepard, a tender subject he knew better than to touch.

But her temper didn't flare. She just shook her head weakly. "I don't know. One thing about Greg is that he always, always finished what he started… And we all saw the beam." She took a deep breath and set her chin in the dip between her knees. "It's just hard to believe that the rest of the galaxy is in ruins when you look at this place. It doesn't seem real."

"I know what you mean…" he whispered, keeping his light blue eyes trained on her. At the risk of ending the evening on a sour note, he slowly reached over with one ungloved hand and placed three fingers on top of her five. To the surprise of them both, she didn't move away.

Silence befell them once more and they continued to sit there, enjoying the now unusual peace and quiet. Minutes or hours could have passed, Garrus wasn't sure, but eventually when he turned to look at her he noticed that her eyes had fallen shut, and her breathing was slow and rhythmic. He lifted his hand off of hers and gave her a gentle nudge, and when that failed to wake her he whispered her name loudly. When her eyelids didn't so much as flutter, he smiled softly and got to his feet. It was challenging getting her into his arms gently, especially with the awkward shape of his breastplate, but he somehow managed to lift her off of the ground and keep her from waking up. She was lighter than he expected, and after he slung his rifle over his shoulder, it was an easy hike back to the Normandy.

Many of the crew members were asleep by the time they arrived, and the ones who weren't tried their best to be discreet in their gawking. Luckily he didn't have to carry her far. It wasn't until he stepped out of the elevator onto deck three that he realized how tired he was himself. He turned for the observation deck and stopped in front of the door, gently lifting her hand up to the door panel to unlock it. When the door slid open, he carried her inside to her little makeshift bed and laid her down as carefully as when he'd picked her up.

If he was feeling a little more daring, he may have taken off her shoes or smoothed the hair out of her face. If he had any reason to believe that he wouldn't wake up missing certain important appendages in the morning, he might have laid down next to her. But instead he opted for pulling the sheets over her and leaving.

Exhaustion was weighing down on him as he made his way to the battery, but the smile on his face refused to leave. Shepard may not like him on a normal day, she might even hate him in the morning, but at least he would always have this night, and he wouldn't soon forget the feeling of having her in his arms.

* * *

_It was dark._

_She could feel an immense weight on top of her, pinning her down. Crushing her. She attempted to move her arms and legs, but she couldn't feel them. _

_Her lungs burned as she inhaled, fighting for air that seemed less and less abundant with every sharp breath. _

_She didn't know where she was, she only knew that it was a tight, pitch-black, uncomfortable space, and her pulse began escalating as claustrophobia set in. _

_She opened her mouth to call out but her throat was raw and no words made it past her dry lips. _

Help…_ she thought. _I'm stuck… I can't move…

_But in the pit of her stomach, she knew no-one was coming to help her. She was trapped. No-one could save her._

Shepard awoke with a jolt, gasping for air that she was sure wasn't there. It was dark.

Panic started to grip her as she flailed herself upright, eyes darting around until she caught sight of the illuminated door panel only a few feet away. "Fuck…" she hissed, dropping her head back onto her pillows and willing her pulse to even out. She was awake. She was alive. She was on the Normandy. She was safe. But something about that dream had left an awful feeling rooted in her chest.

She shook her head, hoping to shake off the sensation that something was wrong, and her lungs emptied on a heavy sigh. She hadn't had a nightmare like that since… well, since the Reapers attacked Earth.

She frowned into her pillow as she tried to remember how she had even made it to bed. The last thing she could remember was sitting with Garrus, and… Oh.

Her stomach tossed as she considered the possibilities, the likely explanation being that he'd carried her. _How chivalrous, _she thought with a sneer that contradicted the knots in her stomach; a foreign feeling that she didn't know what to do with. Other than frown harder.

How embarrassing… Lillian Shepard, conking out in the woods like an exhausted kid after a day at the park, needing to be carried home and tucked in. She could throw up. But instead, heat began to spread up her neck and into her face and she groaned.

Worse than her embarrassment was the gratitude she was feeling in place of anger towards him, the same feeling she'd experienced after returning for her belongings and finding him waiting for her. It confused her and made her skin crawl. She didn't feel _affection, _for anyone. Least of all _Garrus._ But she'd felt something new sitting next to him, staring into the night sky. Something she hadn't felt in she didn't even know how long: calm.

Thrashing from one side to another to get comfortable, she eventually drew her legs up against her stomach in an attempt to quell the slight fluttering in her stomach as thoughts of the stupid, adoring looks he so frequently gave her and the feeling of his hand on hers invaded her mind.

Maybe Garrus wasn't all bad after all…  
The _jerk._

She took the sudden bout of restlessness as an opportunity to look through the data Dr. Chakwas had sent her, along with a message containing the results of her own bloodwork. Lillian was a fairly sufficient tech, but she'd never had much of a mind for science, or numbers. When it came to making something work or hacking, the solution simply came to her or it didn't. There was no method to her madness, so much of what she was skimming through now might as well have been written in a different language. But she got the gist of it: everyone on the ship was changing, herself included. Dr. Chakwas was slowly but surely determining _how _they were all changing, but there was no way to know _why._ Not until they could get back into space or reestablish communication.

It was a little creepy, thinking about all of their DNA shifting around. But Shepard didn't feel any different. There were no noticeable changes on or in her body as far as she knew, not like Joker or Tali… So unless terrifying dreams were a symptom, she wasn't too concerned. Yet.

* * *

"Mind if I join you?"

Garrus looked up from the dextro mush on his tray as Tali motioned to the seat across from him. She waited until he nodded approval before sitting down with her own plate of mush. Her glowing eyes creased into little half moons behind her mask, indicating that she was smiling.

"I haven't seen you in a while, Garrus," she started, forking her food with disinterest.

It was an odd statement, considering that they'd both been preoccupied working in different areas of the ship. Since the team wasn't going out on missions and each member of the crew's attention was focused on getting the Normandy off of the ground, everyone onboard was seeing a lot less of everyone else. She was making small-talk, and Garrus would rather she cut to the chase, whatever it may be.

"I've been around," he informed, his mandibles fluttering curiously. "Did you need something?"

Tali shrunk into her seat, embarrassed that she was so transparent. They knew each other better than that. She dropped her eyes to her food and shoveled it from one side of the tray to the next. "I heard you and Shepard were out pretty late…"

Garrus' browplates furrowed at the turn the conversation was taking. He couldn't imagine why Tali needed to know where he and Shepard had been, or for how long, so he simply nodded. "Yeah. It was a little harder finding the way back in the dark…" Partially true.

Tali finally dropped her utensil and began fidgeting with her hands in her lap. It was obvious that she wanted to say something but either didn't know what to say, or how to say it. "Look, Garrus… I, uh… I just think you should be careful," she whispered, leaning forward over the tabletop.

"Careful of what?" he demanded, his subvocals communicating the surprise he felt.

"Of Shepard," Tali answered nervously, looking down. "I know you care for her. A lot… But…" There was a hint of sadness in the Quarian's voice as she continued. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up, that's all. Shepard doesn't seem like the type to settle down…"

Garrus was shocked at his friend's honesty. Tali was among the few who were aware of his feelings for Shepard, but he didn't know why it was coming up _now._ "Well, I… Uh…" He didn't know how to respond. She was right; Shepard didn't seem like the type to settle down, but that hadn't deterred him before. He wasn't even sure _he _was the type to settle down. He wouldn't know until he tried... If the opportunity ever presented itself.

"And she…" Tali looked away nervously, twiddling her fingers in her lap as she debated continuing or not. "She hasn't really been the same…" she whispered, turning to face Garrus again. "Since… since…"

Tali didn't have to finish her sentence, Garrus knew exactly where it was going.

The Collector base. The suicide mission. They lost a lot of people that day… Members of the team, members of the crew… shot down, even liquefied right before their eyes. Thirteen of them had gone into the base, only seven of them had come out, and Shepard hadn't been one-hundred percent since then.

He remembered that day all too well. He could pinpoint the exact moment when the fire in her eyes was doused by defeat, and the Lillian Shepard they'd all known and admired collapsed in on herself.

* * *

_"I can't believe it… I can't believe we actually made it!" Joker howled, his eyes wide with disbelief as the Normandy shot out of the Omega-4 relay. _

_The words rang in Shepard's ears, sending a shiver down her spine from the base of her skull to the tip of her tailbone. The entire team hadn't made it, Kelly, Gabby, they didn't make it. There were so many absent from the ship, good people who had fought and lost on her behalf._

_It was her fault._

_She had failed. _

_They knew the chance of succeeding without any casualties was slim to none when they went into the relay, but she hadn't allowed herself to believe that so many could, or would, die. Not under her command. The last person who had died under her command was Jenkins, and that felt so far away now._

_Besides, they'd had no way of anticipating the geth back then. They'd known what to expect in the Collector base, she'd known; at the very least, she'd known to expect the unexpected… But she hadn't expected to lose half of her team._

_"Shepard…?" Tali whispered, placing a tentative hand on the woman's shoulder. She was shaking, staring ahead with hollow eyes. _

_Shepard blinked and turned to look at the Quarian only to discover that more than just her glowing eyes were fixed on her. Behind Tali was Garrus, a mix of worry and melancholy written on his face; Grunt was staring from his seat against a wall not too far away with Mordin kneeling next to him, tending to some minor injuries; Zaeed was leaning against that same wall looking apathetic as ever, and Miranda… was charging at her with balled fists, her blue eyes fierce and glossy. _

_It wasn't often that the notoriously frosty woman lost her cool or showed much emotion at all, but the cause for her distress now was clear to everyone remaining on the ship._

_"Miranda, I-" Shepard began, barely getting a word out before the other woman cut her off._

_"Jacob is dead because of you!" she yelled, jabbing an accusatory finger at Shepard and blinking back tears she was too prideful to let spill. _

_Tali let her hand fall off of Shepard's shoulder and stayed next to her, glaring at Miranda. "Miranda, we _all _lost friends today… Jacob included. It isn't Shepard's fault." _

_"Of course it's Shepard's fault!" Miranda snapped. "As the leader, she's to be held responsible for the loss of _half _of our crew. This wouldn't have happened if _I _had been in charge," she hissed bitterly. _

_Shepard could only stare as the other shouted at her, confirming how incompetent she felt. She opened her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words came. Deep down, she felt she was right. Perhaps the team would have been in better hands with someone else as their leader, someone like Miranda, someone calculating and less impulsive than she. _

_But they hadn't been in more capable hands. They'd been in her hands, and she'd let them slip through her fingers. She had nothing to say for herself._

_"There is no way to know that," Garrus argued on Shepard's silent behalf. Regardless of his growing adoration for the human Commander, his militant background allowed for a more practical attitude toward the outcome of the mission. The loss of a comrade is always sad, but death is inevitable, and none of them were in a particularly safe line of work. "We all chose to be here, and we all knew the risks going into that relay. Shepard did the best she could, the best any of us could have done." _

_MIranda turned in Garrus' direction, seemingly ready for an argument, but she stopped suddenly. She simply shook her head and shoved past Shepard as she stormed away from the group, the anger in her face dissolving into grief as she retreated into the elevator. _

_"She's right…" Shepard whispered, barely audible. She turned away from her remaining crew and made her way to the elevator as well, her body stiff but still trembling from head to toe. Tali and Garrus exchanged a look of concern as she disappeared from sight and Garrus sighed. _

_"Joker… Set course for the Citadel."_

* * *

The turian looked down at his food, his appetite now gone. "Look, Tali…" he murmured, meeting her gaze briefly before looking away. "I understand your concern… But I don't want you to worry about me." Perhaps if his involvement with Shepard was something serious, something concrete, then he'd allow his friend to fret… But he was aware of Shepard's instability, and he was aware of her disdain for him, and he would cherish what pleasantness he could get from her.

"Just don't let your emotions cloud your judgment…" she muttered, looking down. "I-I mean, you never have before, but… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything… I just don't want you to get hurt." She stood up from her seat abruptly, feeling partially ashamed and fully embarrassed.

Before she could walk off, Garrus reached out reflexively and touched her arm. "It's okay, Tali. Really. I'll be fine, I promise," he assured with a small smile. He caught the faintest smile in her eyes before she stepped away.

"Alright, Garrus…" She didn't sound convinced, but he wasn't going to push the issue. "I'll see you later," she murmured, waving awkwardly as she walked off and disappeared the way she'd come from earlier.

"Yeah," Garrus mumbled to the empty space.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Yay, I got chapter five out in a semi-timely manner! (I think... :P)**  
**Hope this chapter's okay. I worked on it in sections spread out over weeks, while moving from one house to another, so my thought process wasn't necessarily fluid. Buuuuut it seemed fine to me, so let me know what you guys think! The good, the bad, whatever, all critique is welcome! **

**Hope you guys enjoy, and thank you for reading! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

He awoke to searing pain throbbing behind his eyes which quickly spread throughout every other inch of his body like wildfire, and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter in an attempt to alleviate his sudden discomfort, to little avail. There was a dull sense of weight pressing down on him, as if he was pinned where he lay, and upon trying to lift one of his arms he discovered why. A sharp pain erupted in his joints and shot into his shoulder, lingering between that and his collar bone even after he let his arm relax at his side again. He hissed and tried to position himself in a way that would stop the excruciating pain he was feeling, his breath coming and going in short, sharp spurts as all it did was cause every sleeping part of his body to wake up, angry.

It was evident that he could not move, and fear began to overcome him. Mentally counting down from five, he inhaled slowly and allowed his eyes to flutter open. His vision was blurry and there was scant lighting wherever he was, though once his sight began to focus there was enough for him to see that the walls and ceiling of the room were concrete.

Carefully turning his head from side to side, and having a hell of an easier time doing so than moving any other part of his body, he noticed that he was surrounded by crates and a few empty cots. No windows. One closed door. IV tubes stuck in his hand led him to look towards medical equipment at one side of his cot. As far as he could tell, he was in some kind of storage area, and whoever brought him here had taken care to keep him alive. But if he knew anything, it was to never assume that you're safe.

Gritting his teeth, he attempted to shove himself up into at least a sitting position while consciousness had his mind suddenly reeling. But that same pain from before returned in full force everywhere in his upper body and he collapsed onto his back helplessly. Something was very wrong, but he couldn't remember much before waking up. What happened to him, why he was in so much pain, or why he could barely move…

"Christ…" he rasped dryly, blinking up at the ceiling in defeat. The air was stale, and tasted dusty. He couldn't tell if he was strapped down into the bed or if he was simply that immobile, but a few seconds of exertion had worn him, and his tolerance for pain, out. All he could do was wait for someone to show up… assuming anyone ever would.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. His eyes shot up when the doorknob clicked and someone began to enter the room. His personal immobility being at the forefront of his mind, his pulse skyrocketed and panic began to overwhelm him as a blonde stranger emerged from the shadows. He was tall, with a serious face and a crooked nose, clad in a pair of dirty, tattered slacks and a tshirt. The man didn't look very friendly, and it wasn't helping his nerves at all.

"You aren't supposed to be awake," the stranger informed, giving him a brief once-over and shaking his head. "And you shouldn't be moving. Relax." His voice was thick with a British accent and a sharp tone that resembled someone else he knew.

His mouth fell open in an attempt to respond, but no words came. All he could do was watch, wide-eyed and mouth agape, as the unfamiliar man moved to his bedside and observed the equipment he was strapped to. He read his pulse, checked his fluids, made a few notes in a datapad while doing so… completely casual, as if this were an everyday thing. Maybe it was. How long had he been sleeping…?

"I-I can't feel anything…" he finally rasped, drawing the other man's attention. The stranger's green eyes were apathetic and tired, and in case the severity of what he was saying didn't register, he repeated himself. "I can't _move_."

With a sigh, the blonde man moved away from the bed and began retrieving items from a nearby table: a syringe and a vial of clear liquid. As the syringe was filled and the air bubbles removed from within, his anxiety spiked, though he tried to maintain a calm exterior.

"Wh-what is that?" No answer. "Who are you?" No answer. "Are you a doctor?"

"Yes," the stranger finally snapped, impatiently. "I used to be, anyway. Now relax," he stressed again. "You'll have all of your questions answered soon, but you need to rest right now. This is only to help you sleep," he informed, moving back to the cot.

"But I just woke up!" His pitiful attempt at protesting didn't seem to belay the doctor as he closed the distance between them and pinned one of his arms down to the bed. Judging by his physique, and his own lack of functionality, he realized defeat was imminent.

"W-wait!" he exclaimed before the doctor could stick him with the sedative. "Just tell me one thing…"

The doctor urged him to continue with a faint nod of approval, waiting for the man's inquiry. It was hopelessly predictable.

"Where am I?"

* * *

"Where are we?"

News of the navigational system coming back online spread throughout the Normandy quickly. The crew was buzzing with excitement and cramming into the narrow hallway leading to the cockpit, eager to know what corner of the universe they were stranded in.

A couple of weeks had passed without incident, and everyone on board was beginning to grow a bit restless. There was only so much distraction to be found in busy work and drunken card games, and both were starting to lose what little charm they had. Tension was climbing. They needed answers, or at least a solid plan to get back home in the near future. This tidbit of good news was exactly what everyone needed.

"If my readings are correct," EDI began, blinking as she brought up a map of their exact location on her terminal screen. "We've landed on… Aeia. 2175 Aeia."

The information flew over the heads of most of the crew, who were elated to have an answer to one of the most prominent questions plaguing them for weeks now. But to others aboard the Normandy, the knowledge of their location was disconcerting at best.

Towards the back of the crowd, Garrus shifted away from the wall he'd been leaning on and cleared his throat. "Aeia?" he questioned with a hint of unease in his subvocals."Are you sure?"

EDI nodded her head. "That is correct."

Shepard spared the turian a quick, worried glance before flicking her eyes back towards EDI. The two hadn't seen much of each other since their little outing; in fact, Shepard was purposely avoiding Garrus at every possible turn. Surprisingly, he hadn't sought her out. Perhaps he'd lost interest, or was giving her the space she'd demanded. Perhaps he felt as unnerved by the evening as she did. Whatever his reasoning, she was grateful for the distance.

"This is the planet the Gernsback crashed on…" Shepard muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. How had she not recognized it? It had been so beautiful back then, though she hadn't had much time to admire the scenery between gunning down crazed soldiers and offering emotional support to her comrade. A sudden realization crossed her mind and she furrowed her brows. "EDI, how far away is Captain Taylor's camp?"

After typing a command into her console, EDI waited a couple of seconds before answering. "Captain Taylor's camp is located approximately 2,021.976 kilometers away from our current location."

"So… pretty far away," Tali peeped, sounding relieved. Though she hadn't been asked to accompany Shepard on that mission, she'd heard a detailed recollection of the events that took place planet-side, and had skimmed through the mission report at least twice. Afterwards, she was thankful for being left behind on the Normandy.

Garrus didn't seem so at ease. Unlike Tali, he had accompanied Shepard and Jacob to this planet only a year before in search of the human man's father. And what they'd found had left a bad taste in each of their mouths. Even thinking about it now had the same effect.

Taylor had gone completely nuts, hoarding all of the ship's supplies for himself, killing the very people he was sworn to protect. The men had turned into monsters, and the women were corralled like livestock. It wasn't until he could no longer hide out that the scumbag sent out a distress signal, but by then it was too late.

They'd left him defenseless, screaming at the hands of the men he betrayed, and when the Alliance came to pick up the remaining survivors, Captain Taylor wasn't among them. Whether he or any of his men were alive or dead was a mystery, one that Garrus didn't really want solved while they were stuck on this planet.

Judging by the look on Shepard's face, she felt the same way.

She wove through the crowd and into the cockpit before placing her hands on the back of EDI's chair. "Is there a way for us to know if there are other sentient lifeforms on this planet? Survivors from the Hugo Gernsback, maybe?"

"I will check." EDI began typing again and shifted in her seat once the screen changed. "Shepard… I am detecting another vessel located 6.92 kilometers away." She spun around in her chair and tilted her head up to look Lillian in the eyes. "It is an Alliance ship."

Shepard wordlessly nibbled at the inside of her cheek as the news of potential survivors, Alliance servicemen, sunk in, allowing excited chatter to invade the quiet space around her. She hadn't actually expected EDI to find anyone else on the planet, and judging by the rising, enthusiastic volume of those around her, she guessed no one else did either.

A voice only a few of them had heard for some time finally broke through the chatter. "We need to find it." Everyone turned to look at Williams, their expressions a mix of surprise and agreement. Not half a month had passed since they'd landed on this planet trying to escape the Crucible's mysterious green beam, and the damages suffered by the Normandy were minor at best. No one was injured, thankfully. With the proper equipment, they could get off of the ground easily. But the state of this other ship, or its crew, was unknown, and they needed to find it. "They're Alliance, we owe it to them to look."

"Count me in," Vega exclaimed enthusiastically, punching a fist into his other palm.

Garrus straightened up. "Me too." Calibrating guns that were useless groundside was becoming tiresome, and there was only so much that he could do to help out in other areas of the ship. He wouldn't pass up the chance to go on an actual mission for anything.

James gave the turian an appreciative smile before looking Shepard's way. "You comin', Lola?"

Shepard looked up from the floor with a conflicted expression painted on her face. She was trying not to let the hesitation she felt bubbling up in the pit of her stomach show, but she had little faith in her ability. It had been months since she'd even held a firearm, and even longer since she'd been responsible for anyone else's well-being. She wasn't sure she was ready to bear that burden again, but what choice did she have?

A glance in Ashley's direction had her wondering if Greg ever felt this kind of trepidation.

Doubtful.

He was always so certain. Stupidly so from time to time. And here she was, mentally cringing at the thought of a little recon. Screw that. She could do this.

It would be like riding a bike… Hopefully.

"Yeah… Yeah, sure," she finally answered, clearing her throat. "Alright." She straightened up and squared her shoulders as she eased into Commander-mode. As far as she was concerned, being relieved of duty meant zip on 2175 Aeia. Everyone still referred to her as Commander anyway, and Garrus _had _expected her to step into her old shoes. She could still play the part.

"Whoever's coming, get down to the armory and gear up. We'll be on foot, so keep it light. We'll move in ten. Everyone else stay here, stay sharp, and stay busy. We'll keep in contact over radio. I want a team ready to assist, should any shit hit the fan…" Her gaze drifted from Tali to Ashley as she debated on who would be in charge of the back-up squad. The situation was too familiar and she felt a sick feeling in her gut. Thankfully the choice was obvious, and there wasn't much time spent debating. "… Tali. You lead it."

The quarian nodded in her corner. "Alright, Shepard." She was already using her omni-tool to select and prepare a team, should a need for their assistance arise, when Shepard looked away.

As she scanned the crowd, she caught one set of blue eyes trained on her and held their stare. She could have sworn that there was the faintest hint of a smile behind them, so she shook her head and looked elsewhere. "Okay, we all know what to do. Go!"

* * *

A trio consisting of James, Garrus, and Shepard departed on foot ten minutes after the meeting, right on time. They were moving quickly through the forest, their destination set. So far it had been an easy trek. They were making good time. If they kept up their current pace, they would reach the ship and be back aboard the Normandy before nightfall… assuming all went according to plan.

Shepard was marching ahead of the two men, shoving and stomping her way through the branches and shrubbery, armed with a shotgun and pistol. Being in her armor again felt foreign and disorienting, but hardly uncomfortable; it still fit like a second skin, and she felt herself fuse with it more and more as each second passed. It was… homey. The hesitation that she'd felt before had dissipated early on in their adventure, and now she felt unstoppable. Whether it was due to her own emotional state or some kind of placebo effect would be up for debate later; right now, she was interested in one thing only: finding the ship.

"It's nice to have her back, eh Scars?"

The sudden noise snapped Garrus out of the trance he'd been in, following Shepard to hell and back just like the good old days. His eyes were wide open, constantly on the lookout for potential threats, his visor busy scanning and analyzing everything in sight while his other senses were muted, on standby for the moment when she would shout at them to move, take cover, or assist. He wasn't expecting to chit-chat, least of all with someone whom he felt such a primal, competitive aggression towards. But he decided to entertain him anyhow. "Hm?"

The marine nodded in the direction of their leader. "The Commander… Y'know, commanding. She seems different." James hadn't known Lillian until after she was placed under arrest, and by then she was so far gone from the Commander she'd once been that she hardly recognized herself. She was a different Lillian Shepard than she knew, a different Lillian Shepard than the world, the galaxy knew. But she was the only Lillian Shepard James knew, and it was exciting to see her in action, her head held high and her eyes ablaze with purpose. "It's nice."

The turian watched Shepard carve her way through the greenery with a shotgun cradled in her arms. She looked confident and brave, like there's nowhere else she'd rather be, just as she had years before. Looking at this woman now, you'd never know that only days before she'd been on the verge of a breakdown. His mandibles spread open in a wide smile, a soft glint in his eyes, and maybe he sighed a little bit.

"Yeah… It is," he responded quietly, shaking the appreciative look off of his face and diverting his gaze to the marine next to him. He was met with a curious stare. "What?"

A crooked little grin pulled at the corner of James' mouth as he continued to stare at Garrus. "Nothin'… Just watching you admiring the view," he answered.

Garrus glanced around at the forest, unsure of what the younger man was referring to… until his blue eyes landed on the back of Shepard's head and heat began radiating beneath his skin. "Oh… Ah… It's not, uh…" He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away, feeling somewhat guilty that he'd been caught staring at the Commander. Was he that obvious?

James stifled a laugh and shook his head. "Don't sweat it. There probably ain't a man alive who hasn't thought about _her _once or twice." He stopped walking then and turned to face his turian comrade, oblivious to the discomfort his admission had just caused him. "But listen…"

Garrus slowed to a stop as well, curiosity suddenly brimming. Was James about to admit to him what he feared? That he and Shepard were joined, so he was 'barking up the wrong tree', whatever that means…? The short silence following James' lead-in had his curiosity turning to anxiety, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what he was going to say.

James leaned in before continuing, and spoke in barely more than a whisper. "I'm not saying she can't handle herself, we all know she can. But, every once in a while she needs a little help…" He reached up to rub the back of his neck as he fought to think of the correct way to get his point across. "As a kid, did you ever have like a favorite toy that you played with so much, it wore down and eventually broke… And no matter how many times you tried to fix it with stitching or tape or glue, it was never really the same? That's Shepard."

The metaphor was clearly lost on Garrus who was staring at Jame's blankly, his brow plates furrowed and his mandibles drawn in against his face.

The marine sighed and shook his head. "She's strong, but there are parts of her that are broken. And it doesn't matter that there's stitches or glue or whatever holding her together, 'cause she may never be the same. So, y'know, handle with care and all that."

"Hey."

Both men looked up to find Shepard staring at them impatiently from about five yards ahead. "I think we're close. C'mon," she snapped, glaring at each of them in turn.

They both shut up and caught up to her just as they broke through a thicket of trees and the other ship came into view. It was immediately obvious that this frigate was much worse for wear than the Normandy, having landed in the trees rather than in a clearing. It's wings were almost completely severed from the body of the ship which was crumpled and broken itself, and much of its paneling was torn off and lay strewn about the forest floor. Black soot covered several, varying parts of the ship and the bark of surrounding trees where fires had been extinguished. Though it was still mostly intact, it was a mess.

The team approached the wreckage slowly, weapons at the ready. There was no telling what they would find. The area was quiet, unnervingly so, and all they could hear was the sound of leaves and grass crunching beneath their own deliberate footsteps.

"SSV Lexington…" Shepard read, her light eyes scanning over what remained of the ship's exterior. As far as she could tell, there was no one here. Perhaps no one survived the crash, though that seemed unlikely. Or perhaps the survivors left… There was no way to know until they searched the crash site thoroughly. "Spread out," she commanded, pointing Garrus and James in different directions with the barrel of her gun. "We'll make sure it's safe out here before we try to find a way inside."

"Yes ma'am," James muttered with a firm nod, walking off in the opposite direction of Garrus who departed on a soft: "Understood."

Lillian continued to walk along the body of the frigate, looking for any kind of clue as to where the men aboard were. The ship being so badly damaged, she had to step over and under pieces of it carefully. Occasionally something rattled loose or rumbled lowly with the desire to give, and she found herself practically running out of the way. She'd never been so jumpy before, and she didn't like it. She missed her rage-fueled adrenaline and briefly considered opening a comm line with Garrus just to start an argument. Minutes ticked by silently and still she had yet to find even a single footprint or hear a word from her teammates, and just when it was begin to feel a little eerie, Vega's welcome voice broke through the quiet.

"'Ey Commander… I found something you might wanna check out. You too, Scars. Sending you my location now."

"On my way," Shepard confirmed, following the coordinates provided around to the opposite side of the crash site where James was standing at the edge of the woods, looking down. She reached him just a moment sooner than Garrus, and what they found shocked them all into a deeper silence.

Before them were a handful of graves, tended to with obvious care. The plots were of uniform size and lined up perfectly one after the other, the soil dark and fresh. They couldn't be more than a few days old.

It was Garrus who eventually voiced what they were all thinking. "Looks like we found the crew." He hung his head and cleared his throat. "Some of them anyway," he added softly.

Lillian nodded and bit at her bottom lip, trying to keep her nerves at bay. "But where are the rest of them?" she wondered aloud, exchanging a worried glance with the turian beside her.

From around the corner of the ship, movement caught James' eye and he turned around with his rifle raised as four men revealed themselves, their own firearms trained on the trio standing next to the graves.

"Well I'll be damned," the one in front spoke, lowering his gun slightly. "Of all the things we expected to find on this planet, a Shepard wasn't one of 'em."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Here's chapter six, finally!**  
**I apologize for the lengthy, and characteristic, delay. Y'know, life and all that.**  
**I'm excited that I finally finished it though. I literally changed it around at least seven times, and each of those times at least 2000 words were lost to my indecisiveness and harsh self-criticism, lol. There was also a long stint with writer's block where I couldn't even be bothered to edit.**

**So, for initially not wanting it to end up the way that it did, I'm pretty happy with it. Also, I'm working on Chapter 7 right meow, so I'm hoping and praying to the writing gods that my brain doesn't crap out on me again.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading, and as always, all criticism is welcome criticism!**

**OOH, most importantly I would like to give a giant shout-out to everyone who's supported my little fanfiction baby up to this point. I started doing this as a fun outlet for my love of Mass Effect and all things BioWare-related, but it definitely helps to know that there are a few people out there who dig my story and I am not a total failure. :P So thank you. You are the best! 3**


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